Greater Evidence
by base12
Summary: "Oh, I'm so screwed," he moaned to himself when he was sure nobody was watching. Here he was stuck ten-thousand years in the past, a bunch of creepy disappearing people trying to kill him, and the deadline for his return trip home ticking away. It was a bit much to take in a once. Sequel to A New History. Rev.1
1. Chapter 1

The gate deactivated behind him with a whoosh and a snap. Frigid dry air assaulted his lungs with the first breath he drew in. "What the heck's going on?" Rodney called out, his voice disappearing into the landscape. His eyes took in the scene in front of him, finally registering that he wasn't in the Atlantis gate-room.

All around him were white, snow covered mountains. The gate was on top of a modest hill overlooking a valley in which a thin arc of the sun was just visible over the horizon. The air was impossibly still, his ears ringing in the silence.

"How is this...?" Rodney muttered. He searched the scene in front of him, his mind automatically going to the first priority; to find the DHD. The DHD rested partially covered in snow a few paces in front of the gate. Okay, so at least he wasn't stranded.

Why was he here? The last thing he remembered was dialing Atlantis and stepping through the gate. Thinking back, he remembered seeing the light on the GDO turn green, meaning the answering signal from Atlantis reached his transceiver.

This didn't make any sense at all. There were no energy bursts to the outbound gate that would have caused the gate to switch destinations. This couldn't happen!

He looked around, seeing nothing but snow covered peaks, blanketed in an eerie stillness. Clearly this _had_ happened, and he needed to get out of here.

He stepped off the platform and into the snow, the edge of the snow going over his boots and down his ankles. "Oh fantastic," he said as he trudged through the knee deep snow to the DHD. He brushed the thin layer of snow off the DHD and pressed the symbols for Atlantis, activating the gate.

He watched the wormhole stabilize, then looked to his wrist GDO, waiting for the signal to proceed. He stared at the red indicator, waiting. Something was wrong, normally it wouldn't take this long.

"Atlantis, this is McKay," he said into the radio strapped to his shoulder. He counted to five waiting for a response. "Atlantis, this is McKay." Only silence answered him. "Come on guys, I'm freezing here. I've been accidentally sent to a frozen wasteland." He looked to his GDO, but the light was still red.

The gate shut off. He stared through the ring at the mountain peak on the other side, watching as the line of sunlight rose up the side of it as the sun disappeared. The tips of his ears were starting to hurt because of the cold.

"The alpha-site," he muttered. He closed his eyes, tapping his head with his finger as he tried to remember the address. The symbols came to him with the mnemonic he used to remember gate addresses. He entered the symbols and activated the gate, wasting no time in sprinting through the snow and through the barrier.

He stepped through on the other side, the warm balmy air and the smell of spring trees greeting him in the morning twilight. He would have sighed in relief except for the cold snow wet which was still lodged in his shoe.

Nothing looked like he remembered. There were no tents, no people, no buildings, no anything. There was only a small clearing in around him which was flanked on all sides by the sprawling low trees common to the area. Was this even the right planet? What was going on?

The trees moved, or rather the people hiding behind the trees came out, almost as of they condensed out of the air. There were at least a dozen, men and women pointing what looked like high tech weapons at him.

"Woah woah," Rodney said, putting his hands palms forward at shoulder height. He looked all around at them, trying to figure out who they were. They were dressed in gray colored clothing, probably uniforms. That could imply they were part of some sort of military. But who were they? Maybe the Genii?

A woman approached, slightly shorter than him, with short cut dark hair. She carried a sense of authority in the way she walked, stopping a few paces from Rodney.

"He's human," she called to those around her. "Lower your weapons." All the soldiers around the gate lowered their weapons and stood at attention.

"I'm sorry about that," the woman said. "I suppose you can understand that we need to protect ourselves given the state of things."

"Uh, sure." Rodney said, not having the slightest idea what she was talking about.

"I am commander Elren of the Sorian military. You are?"

"Confused." Rodney said before he could catch up with what he was thinking.

"Your name is 'Confused?'" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, uh, no. My name is Rodney McKay and... Could you explain what's going on?"

"Normally we would not greet strangers like this, but with the wraith as they're called, becoming a larger threat, we have been forced to take measures to protect ourselves. Although I cannot require it of you, we would appreciate it if you could state the reason for your journey here."

"Actually, I wasn't trying to come here, I was trying to go-somewhere-else." He was met with a blank stare. "The gate must have malfunctioned, this isn't the planet I was trying to get to."

The woman rolled her eyes briefly. "That's typical. There have been a number of gate malfunctions recently. Several worlds we've tried to contact haven't been able to establish a connection. The Linteen would normally have corrected such a problem sooner, but obviously they're preoccupied with other things."

"Right, right, do you mind if I try dialing out?"

"Proceed," the woman said, gesturing to the DHD.

Rodney stepped down the concrete ramp to the DHD. He figured there would be little harm in dialing Atlantis directly. These people probably wouldn't recognize the symbols anyway. He entered the symbols for Atlantis and activated the gate. After entering the code on his GDO, he waited for the signal which still didn't come. The sound of guns loading sounded all around him.

He looked around and saw that all of the soldiers were pointing their weapons at him once more.

"What is the meaning of this?" Elren asked.

"What do you mean? I'm just trying to get home."

"Bind him," she ordered.

"Wait, agh." Rodney was forced face to the ground, practically eating the dirt.

"What's going on? What did I do?" he pleaded.

"What audacity you must have. A Lantean showing their face around here?"

Cords were tied tightly around his wrists and a black cover placed over his head. They manhandled him, forcing him to his feet and leading him in some direction.

"Climb," one of them ordered after walking a short distance.

"Climb where?" Rodney demanded. He was forced forward and stumbled on a set of metal steps which clattered as he moved. Setting one foot in front of the other, he realized that he was climbing a metal grate ramp.

"Sit," the same soldier ordered. He felt the area around him and found a wood bench. As he sat down, the entire ground began to rattle with a nearly deafening noise. It was an engine, like a truck of some kind. The ground lurched underneath him, meaning that he was moving forward.

* * *

He was so S-O-L, it was beyond belief. Trapped in prison on an unknown alien world with none of his friends knowing where he was. What was going on with Atlantis anyway? Why wouldn't they answer the radio or his GDO signal? A fear simmered beneath the surface which he was reluctant to consider. What if something happened to Atlantis? What if the wraith found their way there?

Rodney sat down on the cot and lay back on the rough wool covers. At least these people, whoever they were kept their prisons clean. It wasn't as bad as being on a wraith ship, except maybe for being stripped searched and having _everything_ examined. Thinking back, they probably _had_ stripped searched him, the only difference was he was unconscious at the time.

Before he could push those disturbing thoughts aside and get comfortable, several gray uniformed soldiers stomped to the lock and slid open the horizontal steel bars.

"Get up," one ordered, pointing a weapon at him. Rodney stood and shuffled out of the cell.

"Where are we going?"

"Commander Elren has arranged for you to be interrogated."

"Oh," Rodney moaned. They led him through a labyrinth of steel doors and concrete which reminded him of a slightly rusty and dark version of the SGC.

They stopped at one door in particular, which one of the soldiers opened by turning a large wheel-like latch. The door swung open showing a table set up, with a single dim lamp overhead. At one end of the table, commander Elren sat perfectly still and straight with her elbows on the table, looking at him with a deadly gaze.

"Sit," she ordered. Rodney wasn't in the mood to argue, so he sat on the rickety wood chair which creaked as he settled in.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Doctor Rodney McKay," he said truthfully.

"Where are you from?"

Rodney didn't answer immediately. The fact that he and his team were from a planet called Earth in another galaxy was considered 'need to know' when they were dealing with alien races. Still, this woman looked like she was not in a mood to be lied to. They weren't wraith after all, so it would probably be okay for him to at least give them a _name._

"I'm from a planet called Earth."

"Why were you attempting to contact Atlantis?"

"That's where I live! Look, what's going on here? Why did you guys freak out when I dialed the gate."

"Because there's a war going on."

"Yeah and so what, you're just gonna kidnap me because you feel like it? What did I ever do to you?"

"What do you know about the wraith?"

"A lot of things, what does that have to do with anything?"

"For instance."

"I don't know, pick something! Pick a topic!"

She gestured to a guard who brought a wraith stunner to her. She examined the weapon briefly and then pointed it at him.

"You were carrying this wraith weapon with you. Explain how it works"

"You think I'm involved with the wraith? We've found those things lying around everywhere, just having one doesn't mean I'm associated with the wraith. And to answer your question, that works by creating an ion path through the air for an energy beam consisting of a certain set of low energy particles at just the right interference pattern to interrupt and temporarily damage the nervous system of the victim. None of which probably means anything to you."

Elren leaned forward. "It's a stunner."

"Uh, well yeah."

"Could you build one?"

"Probably, if I had the right equipment." He thought of kicking himself. Obviously they asked him that because they wanted him to build one. His ego was getting him in more trouble.

Elren leaned back in her chair, her face still showing no emotion. "What is your involvement with the Lanteans?"

"What?" He didn't understand what she was asking, he looked to her for clarification, but she was stone faced and didn't repeat the question. "The Lanteans are gone, they disappeared over ten-thousand years ago."

"Doctor Rodney, I don't know what you are trying to accomplish by spouting such nonsense. Now answer the questions."

"Your question doesn't make any sense! Look, I live in Atlantis, but I promise you, I'm not involved with the Lanteans."

"Doctor Rodney..."

"That's Doctor McKay!"

"You're going to help us, whether you like it or not! First you're going to tell us everything you know of the wraith and their technology, then you're going to help us construct weapons to rival theirs! When you're done with that, perhaps I'll decide to let you live."

That was typical of any military. Of course they would recognize him as a genius, but then what did they do? Force him to build weapons for them. He was an astrophysicist, not a weapons engineer!

She waved, signaling a guard who shoved him roughly out of his chair, leading him along out of the room.

* * *

Radek took off his glasses and massaged his eyes, unable to bear looking at one more line of data. Each gate malfunction report was like a thousand page book, generated automatically by the DHD and stored for later retrieval. So far, none of the data points were showing anything anomalous. The gate had registered a GDO radio signal being transmitted, but no mass, such as a person. The DHD on the opposite side had initiated an automatic shutdown normally, meaning as far as the gate was concerned, there was no problem.

Radek stood and walked quickly toward the door of the lab, his head dizzy from being stationary too long. The equipment in the corner of his office chimed. Radek stopped and looked back to the corner where his communications equipment was set up. It was the encoded transceiver he and Rodney had set up so personnel could communicate securely in the event of an infiltration or attack.

He walked quickly over to the console, which indicated one message in text had been received. Radek opened the console and read the message displayed.

'M6U773'

There was only one line of text displayed. He looked at the name of the sender, which he had to read twice. It said 'Rodney McKay.'

* * *

Rodney despised being forced to build weapons. He disliked it when his own military told him to help calibrate weapons or some other doomsday device, and he loathed being coerced by some alien military. Still, it was the only reason he was being let out of his cell.

Commander Elren ordered that he be given access to their weapons research laboratory. He was to be supervised at all times by the other scientists as well as armed guards. Apparently this planet didn't have any problem at all with forced intellectual labor.

The laboratory was modest by comparison to Earth standards. It seemed as if the most advanced weapon they had was a type of cannon. He wasn't about to mention anything about nuclear weapons.

The lab was in the same facility that the prison cell was, which reminded him a lot of the SGC. He wasn't sure if it was underground, but he didn't see any windows anywhere.

Rodney worked at the desk, painfully drawing out each equation by hand. They had no such thing as computers, making every single calculation and drawing a whole day affair. If he was honest with himself, he really didn't know if he could draw out the plans to built a wraith stunner. He didn't have access to his own team's research on the weapon, meaning everything he drew out was from memory. It wasn't going so well.

Rodney looked up from the desk, massaging his sore neck and blinking as his vision washed out in the dark room around the single desk lamp.

Rodney heard Svard hobbling over with his distinctive limp. The lead scientist supervising him was named 'Tev Svard,' Tev being a title which he considered the equivalent of doctor. The man was old, probably in his eighties. He was missing a finger, which he explained that he lost 'in the line of duty.' Considering who he worked for, the man didn't seem half bad. He hadn't been rude or demanding thus far, and had simply encouraged Rodney whenever he walked by.

"How is the work proceeding?" Svard asked.

"Slowly," Rodney replied. "I don't have any of my own reference materials or anything to go on."

"You'll get along." the man said.

"And what if I can't? What if I can't build what you're asking me to build?"

The man shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me, but I don't think the military will look kindly on that attitude."

Rodney exhaled heavily, knowing that he wouldn't be allowed to stop until he invented _something_ for these people.

"What are you working on now?"

"I'm just going over the power requirements for the device. I'm going to try to match up one of your existing power sources with what we need."

Svard sat down in the chair adjacent to him.

"Why are they doing this to me?" Rodney asked.

"Because you are associated with our enemy I suppose."

"Why do you guys think that I'm with the wraith? What have I done that could possibly suggest that?

"Not the wraith. You tried to travel to Atlantis."

"What? I don't understand, is it the wraith you're at war with or the Lanteans, which who I might add have been gone for over ten-thousand years."

"They're one in the same." Svard answered. Rodney could only assume that his people had some weird misguided idea about the Ancients. Svard stared at Rodney strangely. "Ten thousand years?"

"That's approximately how long Atlantis has been sitting at the bottom of the ocean abandoned. We found it completely empty a few years ago."

Svard stared at Rodney as if he were crazy. "Doctor McKay," Svard started politely, as if he were explaining something to a child. "I don't know where you've gotten that idea from, but my last visit to Atlantis occurred only five years ago when I traveled there to search their great library of knowledge. It was just before all this mess with the wraith started."

"What? No, the dialing computer was locked and set to only receive incoming travelers from my..." McKay faltered, his mind connecting the dots after he started speaking. In that instant he knew, rather suspected that he knew what had happened to him. Svard claimed that he had visited Atlantis only five years ago, whereas Rodney knew the city was abandoned and locked five years ago. Both realities could not be true, and yet apparently both were. Rodney was barely paying attention, but Svard had said 'just before all this mess with the wraith had started.' That event would have had to occur over a century before the Ancients abandoned the city and left for Earth.

"Oh my..." Rodney said, leaning back quickly in his chair and almost falling over. He looked around himself and laughed, realizing that he was seeing events in real time that occurred nearly ten millennia before he was born. "Well, that would explain a lot of things, like why they wouldn't answer my radio calls." He leaned forward and looked Svard in the eye, smiling. "It's because they weren't there! They don't be there for another ten thousand one hundred years!"

Svard said nothing and was very still as he stared Rodney in the eye.

"I've traveled back in time roughly ten thousand years!" he said excitedly. "But how that could be possible? Probably a solar flare of some sort along the route."

"What are you on about?" Svard asked.

"A solar flare," Rodney said, wide eyed and excitedly. "When I stepped through the gate, the wormhole must have been routed close by to a solar flare, which imparted enough energy to the matter stream to force it to seek another gate in order to dissipate the amount of energy being absorbed. It just so happens that the planet I stepped out on was the closest in space-time to the energy level required for the gate gate to maintain safe operation."

Rodney's smile faded. "Oh no. No, no, no, I can't be here right now. I'm altering history just by being here. With how far back I've traveled, I could step on an insect and irreparably change the future."

"Speak reasonably and calm down, doctor."

Rodney quieted down and looked to him. "Now I can't pretend to understand everything you've just said," Svard said quietly. "but am I to understand that you've traveled back in time?"

"Yes," Rodney said irritably. "Look, I don't mean to sound rude, but I can't be here right now. I can't give you any more information without potentially damaging the time-line, that is if I haven't already."

"If this is indeed true, then I understand your position, but that is not going to sit well with the others."

Rodney was amazed that this old man was keeping up with him as well as he was. These people's level of technology wouldn't suggest that they had theorized anything remotely like time travel. Perhaps Svard had come across the concept before; he said he had visited Atlantis to search their library.

Svard ran his hand through what thin gray hair he had left. "This certainly has to be the most extreme case I've ever heard of."

"Then you believe me?" Rodney asked, astonished.

"You don't come across as the type to lie very effectively."

"Uh, thank you?" Rodney said, wondering if that was a compliment.

"I believe your story is genuine, however your worry of 'damaging time,' as you say is unfounded."

"What would make you say that? Look, I've traveled so far back, that literally stepping on an insect could change history as I know it. Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect?" Rodney put on a sarcastic look. "Of course not, you probably don't even know what a butterfly is."

Svard shook his head. "That is not possible. You are here because you were meant to be here."

"Yes, well that's comforting, but it doesn't make it true."

"It is true based on what I've studied on the subject. You can't effect any change which wasn't already a part of your history as you know it."

"Oh, I see." Rodney said sarcastically. "And do you have a PhD in astrophysics?" Rodney clammed his mouth when he remembered the man he was talking to was almost twice as old as he was. And he _did_ have his world's equivalent of a PhD.

"Doctor McKay, I don't know what your qualifications are, but I spent years assisting the Lanteans in maintaining the gate network. I've learned quite a bit about gate malfunctions."

"Oh, well, I, uh."

"I've experienced to a lesser extent exactly what you're going through right now. Believe me when I say you do not have to worry about altering history."

A blaring alarm sounded, a kind of klaxon horn which alternately grew louder and more quiet.

"What's that?" Rodney searched around the room frantically, looking for a source of danger. Rodney looked back to Svard, only to see an empty chair where the man had been seated only a moment before.

Rodney stood up and turned completely around the room searching for Svard, but he was nowhere in sight.

The half dozen or so guards who were watching him jolted into action and left through the single exit to the lab.

Rodney became excited for a moment, thinking that it was a good thing that he was alone now and that he would be able to escape. Then it dawned on him; there was something out there attacking these people, and he had _nothing _do defend himself with.

Rodney ran around the room from desk to desk, looking for something that remotely resembled a weapon. "Come on! This is a weapons research laboratory!" He ran by a desk which had a very large metallic gun shaped object displayed in a fixture. "Hello hello," he said grinning. He picked up the object and examined it, taking note of the muzzle, the trigger and the action. This was a weapon all right, it had to be. He held the weapon sideways to himself aiming at the concrete wall. He looked in the direction it was pointing and after ensuring there was nobody there, he pulled the trigger. A pressurized jet of water flew out the end and soaked the papers sitting on a desk six feet away. "You've gotta be kidding me!?"

A series of dull metallic thuds sounded around him. Rodney edged toward the open door, glancing around the corner quickly to ensure there was nobody there. After seeing the empty hall, he proceeded through. He didn't quite have a mental layout of the place yet, in fact, the only place he was sure he could find was his prison cell.

The hall came to a wide spot, a junction where it split off radially in three different directions. Rodney looked around for some sort of landmark or sign to guide him. He looked down and saw a circular path drawn around the spot where he was standing. It reminded him of a...

The floor opened up with a loud humming noise and he fell through a wide lit tunnel. His eyes said he was falling but he couldn't feel it at all. He looked at his shoes and confirmed he was still standing on the same floor. A bright light engulfed him.

He was falling upwards now. "Oh crap," he said when he understood that it was a ring transporter. He was staring at a wall, one of a certain construction which he recognized.

"No," he said desperately, "this can't be happening." He turned around to face a whole group of wraith drones facing him, their weapons trained on him.

He closed his eyes tightly. "This isn't happening, it's not real."


	2. Chapter 2

The group of drones parted, allowing another wraith through.

"Who are you?" it demanded.

"Uh,"

The wraith inhaled deeply. Rodney could only watch, throughly terrified as well as confused.

"You are Lantean?"

"No, uh I mean... Wait, you could tell that just by _smelling_ me?"

"Follow," the wraith said, gesturing for him to follow. Rodney wasn't about to argue seeing as any fight he put up probably wouldn't last long. He searched his memory to try and remember if he ever read anything about what the wraith did with Lantean prisoners. His memory drew a blank since they always figured they were just killed on sight.

His mind delved into imagining the many horrible ways that he could die here when the wraith turned to the left into a room. Rodney then realized that he wasn't being followed by the group of wraith drones. In fact, nobody was following him at all.

Inside the room, there was an assortment of humans, as well as wraith. The scene reminded him of a wraith version of a war room. He supposed these were the ones coordinating the attack occurring inside the secret facility.

The wraith caught the attention of one of the humans who was standing off to the side concentrating on the proceedings. He was dressed in the Lantean military uniform, just like the one's he'd seen the crew-members wearing on the Aurora. That was certainly the last thing he would have expected to see aboard a wraith ship.

The man turned his attention Rodney. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm Doctor McKay," he said timidly. "Sorry, what's going on?"

"This one here says he believes you are Lantean."

"Yes," Rodney lied, trying to appear confident. "Yes, I am."

"What were you doing on this planet?" 

"I was a prisoner."

The man scrutinized him momentarily. "That is unusual. Perhaps it is not surprising seeing as how desperate and foolish the Sorians were."

"Yes, how dare they," Rodney stated.

"What is your operating code?"

Rodney frantically tried to think of something to respond with. He was sure he had come across the term before, but what did it mean?

"_Pro_ _Sep Do At," _he said, still not sure what context he'd seen that sequence before.

"Atlantis?" the man asked.

"Yes,"

The man gestured around him and suddenly several other men in Lantean uniform were aiming weapons at him.

"I'm sorry we will be forced to do this." The man said, his tone unapologetic.

Another person in Lantean uniform walked in through the door, except this time the face and the distinct gait he recognized.

The man who was interviewing Rodney looked awestruck briefly before he snapped to attention, placing his heels together and his arms straight by his side. All the others in the room did the same except for the wraith who looked annoyed. Rodney couldn't help himself in gaping. How had he gotten onto this ship? Also, how did he change his clothes so fast?

"General Foralkus," the man addressed. "We were not expecting you here."

"Stand at rest," Svard said. The man eased somewhat but was still standing tensely.

"I was trying to determine where this man came from and what his business was."

"I know where he's from," Svard replied. "I've been expecting him. Actually that's why I'm here. Come with me Doctor McKay." Svard addressed.

Rodney stepped forward and followed as Svard left the room.

"What did you tell them?" Svard whispered to him when they were a safe distance away. "It looked like they were preparing to do something unpleasant to you."

"They thought I was from Atlantis." Rodney said.

"That seems to be a trend with you. I also expected it would take you longer to find the ring transporter."

"What the heck is going on here? How are you here right now?"

"I have my ways," Svard said cryptically.

"What about this?" Rodney said gesturing to the innards of the wraith ship around them. "This is a wraith ship."

"And you are wondering why members of the Lantean military are on board and collaborating with the wraith?"

"Well, yeah. I mean it just doesn't make any sense."

"No it doesn't Doctor. For the past few years it hasn't made any sense; why we are fighting with them on one front and secretly working with them on another. In all my years, I've never seen a time when the Lantean government showed such duplicity and deception."

"Why are _you _here?"

"I am General Foralkus, otherwise known as Tev Svard to you and all those on Soria. I am here because the place I was hiding is now under attack from my own military."

"So you were hiding from your own military?"

"I have long since been retired from service, but since all this wraith nonsense started, I've been trying to stay out of sight, quietly trying to piece together why this is happening. I can't say for sure, but I can guess the attack on Soria was probably punishment in response to them spreading the word among their allies what they know about the Lantean-wraith involvement."

"But why would your people do that?"

"As I said, I don't know. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, It seems you've given me the opportunity to become more directly involved in finding out." They rounded the bend back to the alcove in which the ring transporter resided.

"Where are we going?"

"The wraith will be at the front, causing the destruction, but there is likely to be a Lantean battle cruiser just out of sight."

They stepped into the middle of the transporter. Svard raised his wrist to fiddle with something which resembled a wristwatch.

"We've never seen a ring transporter on a wraith ship before," Rodney remarked. "I thought that was something that was only found in the Milky Way."

"What about milk?" Svard asked without looking up. Rodney rolled his eyes, suspecting that the man was probably a little hard of hearing. He thought of explaining that was the name they used to refer to his own galaxy, but he didn't have the motivation to explain it.

The ring transporter activated, and in the next instant they were both standing inside a Lantean ship.

"I've informed the captain to expect our arrival."

Svard walked with a partial limp through the hallways with purpose, obviously knowing exactly where he was going. After one elevator and considerable distance, probably half a mile worth of walking, they reached the bridge. Rodney worried about the man being old as he was and having difficulty walking, but he showed no sign of pain or slowing down. As Rodney walked in, he couldn't help but be amazed at the large windows that encircled the bridge. The room was darkened, allowing him to see the expanse of stars outside, as well as a slightly larger bright speck which he supposed was the planet he was on only a little while ago.

The ship's captain stood near the entrance, his rank denoted by the slightly different uniform which Rodney recognized from the Aurora crew.

"General," the man started. "I received your message, and I must say this comes as a surprise to everyone."

"I've been quietly conducting business on behalf of the Lantean council ever since I retired."

"I see," the captain said. "Then I shall inform them of your arrival."

"That won't be necessary," Svard said. "They will likely already know we're on board."

The captain looked uneasy. "You understand this mission is classified. I hope you have not used improper channels of communication."

"I know more about classified missions than anyone on board this ship." Svard said forcefully. "Captain."

"Very well sir," the captain said, retreating.

* * *

Radek tried to avoid slipping as he pulled on the rope, dragging the device up to the gate. The stargate was in a perfectly spherical cavern, centered around this strange object. From what he imagined, the device had kept the ice melted around the stargate for several thousand years, just enough to keep it uncovered from snow. He tried not to think of all the weight of ice that must be above his head.

"You got it?" Lorne asked, referring to the his traction on the ice.

"I think..." was all he could say before his boots lost traction and he fell on his left shoulder. He stood up again quickly. "I'm okay." he said. The device looked a bit like a malp. It was about the same weight, and size, but all it had was a set of metal skids on which it was resting. They had succeeded with much effort in moving it ten feet, about halfway to the gate

"All right, before we take this any further," Lorne said, reaching his for his GDO. Just as Lorne entered the code, the device made a noise. Radek flinched backward a little as the device produced a set of tracks. The device propelled itself slowly and clumsily under it's own power up the ice ramp and toward the gate.

"You're sure it's not dangerous?" Lorne asked.

"Uh, I don't think so. At least from what tests I've been able to do on it here, I think that it's some sort of sub-space transmitter. At least I know it's power source doesn't have enough capacity left to be used as an explosive weapon."

"Convienient," Lorne said as he and Radek followed the device through the gate.

Upon reaching the other side, they saw the device had stopped moving after clearing the gate. Dr Weir was already in the room waiting for them.

"What is it?" Weir asked.

"We're not sure yet," Radek said, brushing the melting snow from his coat. "I've already determined it's a sub space transmitter, but I can't say what it's function is or why it was left on that planet. It's general appearance suggests the Ancients designed it."

"Is this the device which sent the message you received?"

"I don't know yet. I'll know more once I've gotten the opportunity to study it a little more."

"Was there any sign that anyone had accessed the device recently?"

"None, Ma'am," Lorne answered. "There were no footprints at all in the cavern until we arrived."

"Do what you need to," Weir instructed, "So far this is the only lead we have on whatever happened to Rodney."

Radek stepped closer to the device which had accrued a layer of frost it the moments it had been resting. He looked it over, noticing details about its construction which he hadn't been able to see in the dark cavern. He noticed something inscribed on the trim of the device. He removed the glove from his hand and placed his hand on the spot, trying to melt it away. When he removed his hand, it took him a moment to process the words written on it.

The superstructure of the device had the name 'Rodney McKay,' stamped onto it.

* * *

Rodney frowned as he examined the style of the Lantean uniform in the small mirror his cabin had installed. The room was packed with bunk beds and apparently the ship had a full contingent on board, meaning that for the last two days, he was forced to 'hot bunk.' He tried the floor at first, but it wasn't working out.

Svard had explained that he would be dropped off in Atlantis when the ship landed for maintenance. He had been given an operating code, which was something like an ID card. The code identified him as belonging to research and exploration based in Atlantis. Rodney could only wonder what connections that old man could have to be able to pull off something like that. To be honest, that didn't enthuse him as much as he thought it would. Not too long ago, he would have given his eye-teeth for an opportunity to travel back in time and see Atlantis as it was before the war. Now that he was here, all he could think about was getting home to his own time.

Svard explained that he would return to the city and request to be admitted to stay there, to call it his place of residence. His connections as well as recognition as an esteemed leader of the Lantean military would lend heavily to him being accepted. While he was there, he said he would try to quietly infiltrate the Lantean Council and find the source of what he referred to as the 'wraith nonsense.' According to him, only a select few people would know about Lantean involvement with the wraith. In the eyes of everybody else in the city, they were just some far away threat that their supposedly powerful military was quickly taking care of.

Rodney's tired mind ran through all that was going on. He thought of trying to find a way to get back to his own time, but his mind quickly wandered to all the peculiar and disturbing things Svard had told him about what the Lanteans were secretly doing. Svard suspected that his military working with the wraith was to provide some sort of front, to accomplish certain things without the scrutiny of the people in Atlantis or of the other civilizations involved. So far, their involvement was of providing strategy during attacks of human populated worlds. The attacks seemed random, except in the case of Soria, which was attacked for the purpose of preventing information about the Lanteans from spreading. He said that sort of evil was unprecedented in all their recorded history.

Rodney had been stripped of all his supplies when the Sorians had imprisoned him, so he didn't have anything to carry with him except the clothes he was wearing. He exited the cabin and walked toward the mess hall to find something fried and greasy to eat for breakfast. He shuffled along at a slow pace, tired from sleepless nights. He wasn't about to share a bunk with somebody else, no matter the circumstance.

Rodney had studied into the theories on time travel. He had performed research alongside those involved in with the stargate program. They knew the gate could be used to travel through time, as was the obvious case with him. The only way they knew it worked was by routing a wormhole close to a star during a solar flare event. The one that sent him back ten millenia had to be a very large event.

That led into all the logistical problems in getting back. He would need access to a stargate. That could be possibly be arranged, but then he would need to a way to predict which star out of the billions in the galaxy would undergo a solar flare, what magnitude and when. In other words, it was impossible, and he would likely be stuck here.

Somebody nudged his shoulder. He looked up and blinked, trying to get his tired eyes to focus.

"This way," Svard motioned, pulling him along a deserted hallway.

"We need to discuss further what you need to do when we arrive in Atlantis in a few hours. You can't go through the normal channels since you aren't registered as personnel."

"Well great," Rodney said through a yawn, "What do I do now?"

"You'll need to use an alternative means of entering," Svard explained. "You've told me that you know the layout of the city?"

"Well, yes from my time, but what if it...?"

"You also said you have the ability to operate our technology."

"Sure."

"Then you should be able to find your way through the service hallways in the bilge levels. You will need to have your likeness documented before you can move freely about the city."

"How do I do that?"

"You need to find the..." He stopped, plausibly unable to remember. "The personnel registry," he completed after a brief pause You should find one in the department where you'll be working."

"Got it," Rodney said, affirming that he understood.

"I'll have someone there waiting."

Svard stopped in front of a doorway which led into one of the higher class private cabins. The door opened seemingly of it's own accord.

"Oh you're kidding." Rodney said, seeing the spacious room with a carpeted floor and furniture. Svard took a step in and grinned, showing a few missing teeth. "I have my own private bedroom as well as a private bath."

"Well how nice for you." Rodney complained. The door closed between them.

* * *

A wind gust almost blew him over as the rings departed upward. He looked around him, the bright sunshine shadowed by the structure of the ship above him. He would have to get out of here quickly before someone noticed. Rodney started a fast walk toward the edge of the landing pad, but then started running seeing how slowly he appeared to be moving relative to everything else. Assuming nothing had changed, and that was a pretty large assumption, then there should be an access tunnel right at the tip of the pier.

After a few minutes of jogging, he was throughly tired, but he had reached the edge. He looked down over the edge at the water, the waves crashing against it sending spray almost all the way up the edge. There was no access tunnel here. He searched around and saw the ladder about a hundred feet to the left of him. He looked back to where the ship was resting, trying to orient himself. He shrugged, resolving that it wasn't important.

He reached the ladder and climbed down, thankful that the ladder seemed to be constructed of a corrosion resistant material. The last thing he needed was to have to pull rust shards out of his hands. He reached the tunnel, a gaping wide opening in the side wall with water stains leading out the bottom.

This tunnel was used primarily for pumping the bilge areas of water if flooding ever became an issue. He stepped off the ladder into the metal tunnel, his footsteps clanging dully. He moved forward quickly to try and reach the service hatch farther before somebody decided to turn on the bilge.

As the light from the end of the tunnel faded, the tunnel became lit intermittently by dim algae covered lamps, which only provided enough illumination to keep him from bumping his head. He felt a breeze oppose his motion. He stopped, but still felt the rush of oncoming air.

"Oh crap," he said, in slightly higher pitch than he wanted. He turned and tried to run, but the swiftness of his motion caused him to slip and fall. He stood up quickly and began to walk swiftly, just slow enough not to slip. He could hear the roar of the water behind him. He turned around and could see the onrushing water covering one lamp after another down the tunnel. There was no way he could outrun this thing now. He did the only thing he could think of, which was to wrap his arms around his head and sit down.

* * *

"It was definitely Rodney that built it," Radek explained to Dr. Weir, who was hovering just behind his shoulder. The parts and pieces of the transmitter were scattered all over the table in front of him.

Dr. Weir picked up a circuit board and examined it. "Now what would give you that idea?" she asked with a slight smile. She turned the piece around, noting the letters 'R M' soldered into the layout.

"Yes, well that sort of thing is embedded all over this device. There was some water damage to the internal circuitry when we brought it back. Apparently there was some water trapped inside which melted when it warmed up. We're working on recovering some of the data stored."

"Do you ever remember Rodney working on something like this."

"I don't" Radek replied. "I can't even think of when he would have had enough time to do something like this."

"Keep working on it, and keep me posted."

* * *

He had already been underwater for ten seconds. The force of the water tossed him around, scraping his limbs against the rough seams of the metal tunnel. It wouldn't be far before he was thrown over the side and into the ocean. The flow of water stopped, and everything became still. Rodney waited, hoping that the tunnel would clear itself of water. Twenty seconds had passed, and he felt as if he couldn't resist inhaling regardless of whether it was water or air. Rodney reached out and noticed a the force of the water flow was still pushing on him. The water was still being pumped out! He was about the retract his hand when his fingertips struck against something of a different consistency than water. He stood up slowly against the stream of water and his head broke the surface. He gasped, inhaling the salty rotten algae smell of the water. The tunnel was only partially full and seemed to be draining. He turned around, shocked to see the exit only feet away from where he was standing. Beyond that, the remaining water was still draining over the edge. He trudged forward, determined to reach the service hatch before that happened again.

Minutes later, he reached the hatch and turned the lock open, a whole deluge of water following him out as he entered one of the bilge control rooms. He turned around and attempted to close the hatch, but the force of water pushed back, making it very difficult to finally close and latch it. If he was trying to keep his entrance a secret, the water all over the place wasn't a good way to hide it. An alarm on a nearby control panel sounded.

"Oh great," Rodney said, beginning a jog to avoid being discovered.

He walked some distance before the floor cleared of water and noticed the sloshing sound his shoes made as he stepped. It was still about a mile to go before he reached the section he was looking for. He had a pretty good idea where he would have to go to get himself officially registered as belonging in the city.

Even after a mile of walking, his shoes were still sloshing, and his clothes were still pretty well soaked. He had to avoid the transporters since they were frequently transited and he didn't want to draw too much attention.

He received awkward stares as he neared the section. The stairways were the worst since the area was confined and he began to notice that he smelled a bit like a fish.

He reached the room where he was heading, and he noticed someone standing outside. Rodney approached. The man stared at him as though he couldn't believe his appearance.

"Are you the one I'm supposed to...?"

"Probably," Rodney said, "Let's get this over with."

"Right. I've been informed that you have an operating code, but are not currently registered within the city."

"That's right."

The man directed him through the doorway down a mostly deserted hallway. "Normally you would need to go through official channels to receive permission to dwell in the city, which could take months before everything is sorted out. I have the means to expedite that process."

"Great," Rodney said with little enthusiasm. He felt something touching his shoulder. He looked over and saw the man had taken a bit of seaweed off his shoulder and cast it to the floor.

"You're going to have your likeness recorded, so you will want to appear your best."


	3. Chapter 3

Rodney looked back to his workbench, where he was assembling the circuitry of a compact telemetry satellite before it was to be launched in orbit around a black hole the following day.

He looked at the clock on the wall, trying to decipher the symbols and the time. The clock indicated four hours past noon, which would roughly translate to somewhere a little over five earth hours. There was room for confusion in converting between the two time systems.

The diagnostic tools finished with an audible beep, leaving Rodney with no more work to complete for the rest of the day. He sat there, his chin resting on his knuckles with his eyes closed.

Something brushed his ear. He looked behind him, expecting to see someone trying to get his attention, but saw no one. Turning back to his desk, he saw a handwritten note placed on the satellite.

_South landing platform, as soon as your shift is over. _He startled slightly as the tone marking the end of his shift sounded.

Rodney stood up and looked around expecting to see someone out of the ordinary, but the other technicians stood up at exactly the same moment.

"Great timing," Rodney remarked under his breath.

He looked to his left and right, and tried to appear casual as he walked out of the room. He was pretty sure he knew who had sent the note, and he was interested to know why he wanted to meet.

The journey to the south pier was of course ridiculously long, essentially walking from one end of the city to the other. How convenient that his position didn't allow him privilege to use the transporters except in the mornings. He was certainly going to be a lot thinner if this kept up. He did a quick estimation in his head on how far he would have to walk, and figured it would be almost two miles, or about half an hour of walking. He picked up the pace a little, remembering not to take any crap if whoever was waiting for him got impatient.

The sun's angle was low when he arrived, casting long shadows to his left. He walked a short distance away from the nearest building out to the metal landing platform. He turned around slowly, shading his eyes with his hand as he searched for the person he was meeting with.

"Doctor McKay," someone behind him called. He turned toward the building to see Svard, walking with even more of a limp than he'd seen him with before.

Rodney walked forward to meet him.

"I got your message," Rodney explained, "Why are we here?"

"Just to talk," Svard said. "Quite honestly, I have no idea who else I could talk to."

"Oh come on," Rodney said disbelievingly. "I'm sure you have lots of friends and colleagues."

Svard only looked at him solemnly. "I do not. Most of my friends and family have disappeared."

Rodney's grin faded.

"You know, there was a reason I was living on Soria, and not here. Years ago, every general, ship captain and civilian who was too likely to come forward and talk died in mysterious accidents."

"Talk about what?" Rodney said, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"At first, it was how we were ordered not to assist the Asteraceae when the wraith began attacking, even though they were allies at the time. A few ship captains disappeared in mysterious circumstances. One ship was destroyed with no explanation, without even an official mention to the people. I left after a friend of mine, also a general, died hours before he was set to address the council publicly. That's when I quietly retired and left."

"Well, I guess I can see why."

"Yes," Svard said, looking at the ground. "It's been too long though; I shouldn't have waited so long to return."

"Well wait a minute, won't you be in just as much danger now as you were then?"

"Perhaps," Svard said. "But the council has changed faces since I've been gone. If I don't draw too much attention to myself, I should be okay. In any case, I just found out hours ago that out allies have been severing their ties with us, one after the other. They're forcing us to abandon our defensive outposts on their respective worlds."

"That's bad isn't it." Rodney guessed.

"A little bit," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "Without a sufficent presence in the galaxy, the wraith, and any other threat for that matter will leave us extremely vulnerable, causing the front to fall back to the city itself. That isn't nearly so aggravating as seeing the council ignoring the subject completely, focusing instead on ridiculous minutia. As expected, the people don't know about this. I suspect they're being manipulated somehow, by someone. I've also seen deletions from the library, particularly information about the Asteraceae. It's like someone doesn't want the people to know they ever existed. If we're going to stop this, we need to wake the people up; expose whoever's behind this. If we're going to do that, we need a more covert approach than has been tried before."

"Right," Rodney said with slight agitation. "Look, I..." He fidgeted, searching for a polite way to explain himself.

"What is it?"

"Look, I will admit that all of this is very mysterious, but I don't want to get involved in some conspiracy. My primary concern right now is finding a way to get myself home without getting into trouble and getting stuck here."

"But don't you understand, your being sent here to our time is an amazing responsibility. Perhaps it is in part due to your actions that will preserve our people and our way of life."

"Oh for how long?" Rodney shot back. In less than a year from now, the wraith will have obliterated everything, forcing your people to abandon Atlantis and flee to Earth. I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do to change that."

Rodney regretted saying that immediately when he saw Svard's face.

"Look, I mean, I don't want to sound like I don't care, but..." He couldn't think of anything to say after that.

The old man stood silently, and Rodney waited for some remark, for some burst of anger or emotion, but none came.

"Perhaps it would be better if I hadn't heard that."

"I'm sorry," Rodney said.

"I'm not going to stop," Svard said with more determination. "I've worked too long and too hard to give up now."

"What are you going to do?"

Svard turned to leave. "I don't know, but giving up is not an option." He didn't pace forward but paused. "You may be wrong you know. Perhaps if we decide to simply give up and allow this to happen, things will be far worse. We cannot be excused from at least attempting to stop this."

Rodney watched as he limped away, seemingly in more pain than he arrived. Svard considered him as a friend. Rodney never realized that all Svard's friends and family were gone. Svard said they had _disappeared_. He could only imagine what that meant.

* * *

Radek felt both excited and frustrated. He was so close to being able to access the video files stored on the recovered memory chip, he was just having these little hangups with his equipment. He tried swearing at them, and it seemed to help a little. He ran back to the oscilloscope to double check that the bandwidth hadn't changed. Everything was set, so he went back to the video screen and switched it on. No video signal came through, but he heard audio.

"-odney McKay. Radek, if you're listening to this message, I trust you figured out how to access this device. I'll have you all know that I'm alive and well as of the recording of this message. If my timing was correct, which I'm sure it was, then you will receive the signal only a few hours after I disappeared. I have been sent back in time roughly ten thousand years. I have been living a little less than happily in the city of Atlantis for the last few months as a..."

The signal stopped.

"No, no, no." Radek pleaded as smoke rose from the memory chip.

He was about to curse when Colonel Sheppard and Ronon walked in through the door.

"What are you two doing here?" Radek demanded. He backtracked at Sheppard's expression and when he realized how rude that sounded. "I'm sorry, but that was my final chance to get it to work and as you can see..." He gestured to the smoke still rising gently.

"So how goes it?" Sheppard asked blithely.

"Despite initial appearances, I've managed to learn a lot about the device."

"I'm talking about it's relation to Rodney and where he is right now."

"Well, I think I've gathered enough information from the gate diagnostics and this device to tell you exactly what happened." He breathed in, nervous about how he was going to deliver the 'diagnosis.'

"Rodney was sent back in time roughly ten thousand years, and exited a stargate about twenty light-years away, exactly on the planet where we found this device. He found his way back to Atlantis and is living there now, or then... or... whatever."

"Okay." Sheppard said, looking slightly worried. "So that's not the greatest news, but it's not terrible is it?"

"I don't know yet. Rodney managed to record a message and embed it inside this device which as far as I can tell, was meant as a long term telemetry probe."

"Well what did he say?" Sheppard pressed.

"Basically what I told you plus that he'd already been living there a few months by the time he recorded the message. I only listened to part of it before it burnt out."

"Okay," Sheppard said, his face showed that he was processing the information. "So we find a way to go back in time and bring him back."

"I agree, but as of now, I'm open to suggestions."

"What, do you mean you can't do that?"

"Time travel isn't exactly easy! I can't think of any way to accomplish it, at least not right away. In a few months I could probably come up with something, but..." 

"How long is he going to have to wait? What if he dies of old age before we can get to him!"

"That's the thing about this. He has to be stuck there for several months because that's what we learned in the message. But T=there's no rush to find a way to travel back in time. It could theoretically take years to accomplish, but there's nothing preventing us from arriving to take him home thirty seconds after he recorded the message."

"At least he's not in any kind of danger," Ronon added.

"What do you mean, he's stuck ten thousand years in the past!"

Radek raised his hand slightly before adding something. "But he's in Atlantis, that's probably the safest place in the galaxy to be at that time."

* * *

Rodney felt terrible about what he told Svard. Even though it was true, he didn't need to blurt it out like that, or he at least could have let it on a little more gently. He could barely imagine how he would feel if someone from the future told him that his home, his friends and family would be gone in a few months. Would he give up? Would he just lose the will to even try to save it?

As he began the walk from his quarters to the solar observatory on the west pier, the subject of solar flares ran through his mind. It was predicted two days from then, there would be a large amount of solar activity. He already doubted the flares would be just right to send him back to his own time, but he needed to make the necessary observations anyway, just to be sure.

The solar observatory was open for public access, which was nice for him. It meant he didn't have to sneak around to get things done. He entered the observatory, noticing the dome was already open, but the telescope was pointed in the wrong direction. It was amazing that something comparatively simple as a telescope was still used by such an advanced race. Of course their observations were augmented by solar satellites and and other advanced types of sensors, but a telescope still kept its place.

He was beginning to appreciate what Svard had meant when he said he was giving him the best opportunity possible to get home. He had access to all this advanced technology, and the library of the ancients. He really needed to properly thank him the next chance he got. Calculations that would have taken him weeks to complete using earth computers could be done in seconds by their computers.

He approached the the sign-in roster surprised to see only his name listed for the last few days. It wasn't actually _his_ name, it was a pseudonym that he had been assigned. _Aemilius. _It wasn't the worst name, but he still preferred Rodney. Rodney had imagined the Ancients as a race devoted to knowledge and observation. It just didn't seem to fit that a public solar observatory was continually empty except for him.

Trying to re-create from memory the equations on the time-travel potential of solar flares had been a challenge. When he had been in his own time, finding the reference material had been a simple matter of reading the studies he and several other scientists had worked on. Now without those, finding the relevant material in the Ancient database was a challenge.

Rodney approached the console, pulling up the current predictions for the time and intensity of the solar flares. The initial information looked good, at least they would send him forward in time rather than backward. He'd been working on the computer programs to compute the optimal departure time as well as the destination planet to route the wormhole as precisely as possible. After running the data set through the computer programs, the dates fell short. If he stepped through the gate on the exact moment of the flare, he'd probably end up a hundred years short of the mark. It was accurate within one percent but still not good enough. He signed out of the observatory and left for his quarters, feeling reasonably frustrated.

It was impossible. Out of all the months that he'd been here, that was the best shot he'd seen at getting home. What he really needed was some way to travel forward in time a short hop. The only problem was that traveling by stargate via a solar flare was not accurate enough. The calculations always put him few hundred years too far forward or behind. Traveling backward would be a bit of a challenge, but it may be possible to ride it out in the forward direction if he entered stasis.

That was a problem though, he didn't know of any stasis chambers anywhere except Atlantis, and by that time, the city's stargate would be locked out, preventing him from entering. The only other thing he could think of was traveling near the speed of light. That was of course impossible without a ship powered by something like a ZPM. Stealing one at the height of the war would be a very good way to get a lot of unwanted attention. Black holes could cause time dilation, but stepping through a stargate onto a planet being sucked into one wasn't a very bright idea.

He stopped in front of the doors to his quarters, thinking. He wouldn't actually have to be on a planet. If he could find the right black hole, he could orbit around in a ship, even a jumper would be able to do that. Would it be possible to fine tune the degree of time dilation just by varying the orbit?

He realized that he was sweating as he was thinking, realizing that the plan might be viable. Stealing a jumper wouldn't be easy, but it would be easier than trying to steal a stasis pod and related equipment.

Rodney walked into his quarters. It was bitterly comical what poor fortune he had in obtaining a place to stay. In his own time, he picked the largest room he could find, complete with a hot-tub and waterfront view. Here, his kitchen was almost the same as the bathroom, and the couch served as the bed. He would have a waterfront view, except he was at ground level with a large building in his way, shading the sun most of the time. He collapsed on the couch, trying to block out the cramped feeling.

His mind worked on the problem of using a black hole as a means of time travel. That would actually be the easy part, given what he learned, and some of the inside knowledge he had access to. He knew of at least one black hole which had an observation satellite orbiting a nearby planet. That would give him all the information he needed about the black hole itself and the surrounding system.

As he was forming the plan in his mind, the apparent feasibility was going up given the technology he had. What it reduced to was contingency planning. Every step and every failure point had to be thought out in as much detail as possible to ensure the success of the mission. Honestly, he needed a team working on it, but all he had was himself. Better think carefully.

* * *

Rodney looked through the glass across the hall and eyed the molecular assembler longingly. Apparently he wasn't supposed to use it in the first place, and after what happened yesterday, he would probably never be allowed to touch it again. He always thought all of Atlantis' equipment and technology had been left behind when the Ancients left for Earth, but the presence of this particular piece of technology proved otherwise. The machine lived up to it's title, being able to assemble items and chemicals from individual base elements. Naturally, yesterday when he was introduced to the machine, he couldn't resist studying it.

In hindsight, his _studying_ was probably more like screwing around. The interface involved a fixture mounted in the wall which wrapped around the users head and provided a neural and visual interface. The assembler was a pedestal located a few feet away, where the items the user wanted to create were materialized.

When he had been left alone, he activated the device, and immediately racked his brains for something to create. The interface was way more complex than he thought at first, so he resigned himself to just playing with organic chemistry, simple hydrocarbons. He began laying the plans for simple molecules, completely unaware that what he was imagining was being assembled in real time. He thought of three carbons in a chain attached to eight hydrogens, and imagined a liquid block of that material in a cube one foot by one foot. While this was happening, the assembler was doing just as he commanded it to, and as a result, as soon as the molecules were assembled and placed, the volatile substance was evaporating immediately and collecting in the air.

He was in front of that machine for a few minutes completely unaware of the situation until an alarm went off. The doors opened, a whole bunch of angry people ran in and before he knew it, he was being dragged off to explain himself to the department supervisor.

It wasn't the best impression he could make the the higher-ups, but he was thankful nothing exploded. Fortunately, Nonus, the supervisor of the department of exploration was a well humored person. He let Rodney off with a warning not to touch the device again.

Unfortunately that was the most exciting thing that had happened to him in awhile. He had quietly inserted himself into the roster of technicians, essentially the lowest echelon of the entire exploration department. With everything he knew about ancient tech, he was barely keeping up. Granted, his strength was theoretical physics, but he continued to feel frustrated that he was having such difficulty in repairing and maintaining scientific instruments and equipment.

He looked up from his desk, which was scattered with ultra advanced electronic equipment. Work time was technically over, but he had been so slow in doing his work, that he had to stay over to find a good place to stop. There was one person left, what's-his-face, sitting across from him. He was staring blankly at the wall. Normally Rodney wouldn't care about someone daydreaming, but he had been doing that for the last hour, and hadn't moved at all.

"Hello," he called over to the person. No response.

He whistled, "Are you all right?" Still no response.

Rodney stood up, his lower back extremely sore and cramped feeling. He hobbled over to where the man was sitting stationary on his work chair. He passed his hand in front of his face, and got a blink response.

"Well apparently you're still in there," he muttered.

"What are you doing?" the man said as he was startled.

"What do you mean? You've been sitting there immobile for the last hour! I thought something was wrong!"

"An hour?"

"Yes, and that's a long hour too, not earth hours." Rodney blinked deliberately, thinking that he should revise that sentence since it may not mean anything to him.

"I hadn't realized so much time had passed." The man stood up and began walking away.

"Hold on," Rodney called. "What the heck were you doing?"

"Communion with friends," he said. "Through the neural interface."

"Neural interface?"

"Surely you know what that is? It's been available for a few years now."

"Uh, assume I don't. What is it?"

"An implant which allows enhanced connection with the city's systems as well as communication with friends and colleagues."

"Oh," Rodney said, feeling a little repulsed by the idea. He was sure it was a marvelous feat of technology, but it was against his personal rule book to intentionally implant alien technology into his brain.

"Good afternoon," the man said before departing.

"Right, uh, good-bye."

Rodney returned to his quarters briefly to freshen up. He was cutting it a bit close if he was going to make the scheduled dial-out.

He found his way to the gate room. It was strange seeing the way it looked. Everything looked pretty much the same as it did when his team from Earth found it. He supposed it shouldn't be surprising knowing what he learned just recently. In his own time, the date that the Lanteans abandoned the city was well established in the archive. The city's internal clock had been ticking the entire time they were gone up until his own team arrived. The total time, eight-thousand five hundred and fifty two Lantean years. The date of their departure was marked as the first month of year one thousand one hundred and ten. Apparently the calendar year was reset to one every twelve hundred years or so, for reasons Rodney couldn't seem to figure out. The date listed here and right now was the second month of the year one thousand one hundred and nine.

He only had a little under a year to get out of this time period before he'd be forced to leave the city with everyone else.

Rodney saw the doors to the gate room ahead of him, closed instead of open. Back home, they kept those doors open most of the time instead of closed. He stopped in front of the closed doors, allowing the city to run a scan and to figure out that he'd actually been invited there. The doors opened, and he walked into the gate room, where his project of the last few months was waiting.

"Good to see you here Aemilius." His supervisor, Nonus said. The man was the tall and thin type, appearing about the same age as himself, with the exception of a few areas of gray hair.

"Is it ready to go?" Rodney asked.

Nonus gestured for him to walk up the stairs leading into the control room. The whole area had armed guards standing in various places, but two guarded the stairway into the control room.

It was strange for Rodney to see stargate operations from this perspective. Back home, he was always the one with the privilege to come and go as he pleased. Now, he was barely allowed in here. It made him more determined to get home. As he reached the upper platform, he looked down to the machine resting in front of the stargate. The one he had been largely responsible for constructing. A long term telemetry probe, intended for observation of icy climates.

He watched as one of the other technicians on the lower floor ran the diagnostic sequence just before launching. Rodney had made sure the extra circuitry was completely isolated from the rest of the machine except by the power source for this part of the test. He was reasonably confident the sleeper program wouldn't consume enough power to register as an anomaly. He had added extra programming to put the machine into a dormant state in exactly a year from now. the purpose was to conserve the power source so the message could be delivered at the right time.

The technician on the floor disconnected the diagnostic equipment and backed away from the device, signaling that everything was in order. The gate operator dialed the address, activating the gate. The probe trundled across the floor slowly and disappeared through the barrier.

"Receiving a confirmation signal," the gate operator said. "Probe is in position," he said after confirming that the probe had taken position fifteen feet from the gate. The gate shut down.

"Excellent work," Nonus said, grinning. "One more step in our exploration of the galaxy. We should be receiving data for at least the next twenty years."

"Or more," Rodney added with a wry grin.

The meeting room doors across the way opened, and several pompously dressed men and women filed out.

"The Lantean council," Nonus said. "I'm sure they're busily discussing the minutia of day to day operations while remaining oblivious to the reality of the state of the galaxy. Just like the people here, continually ignorant."

Rodney jolted his attention to Nonus. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he said, appearing to try and deflect attention from the comment. "I'm just thinking, something that is strongly discouraged nowadays."

Rodney turned his attention to the people still filing out of the meeting room. Several additional people walked out wearing less sophisticated clothing, presumably observers. One of them, he recognized the limp of his walk.

Svard followed out of the group, but spotted Rodney and altered his course to meet them.

"Good day Aemelius," Svard greeted. "Nonus," he said, shaking hands.

"What was the discussion today?" Nonus asked.

"They were discussing how apparently the people here are eating imbalanced diets. They're proposing more fruits be added to our growing operations."

"Very important matters then," Nonus said, in a subtle mocking tone.

"Oh yes," Svard said with equal satire.

One of the council members came up behind Svard.

"General," the man addressed in friendly tones. "I promised that I would speak with you after the meeting."

"Yes you did," Svard said. "Thank you for sparing your time."

"Your questions lead me to believe that you disapprove of the subject of our meetings."

"Oh no," Svard said. "Your subject matter is perfectly legitimate, however I'm concerned we may have other more important issues to address."

"I understand," the council member said looking to Nonus, and then to Rodney. Rodney instantly felt a headache, like his head was being hit on concrete all of a sudden. "We can discuss this somewhere more private. Perhaps the balcony." The man gestured to the balcony on the other side of the tower.

"Indeed," Svard said, turning around. Rodney felt a little bit wary about the council member. He worried for Svard, hoping that he wasn't getting too rowdy or drawing too much attention. "Good day," Svard said to Nonus and Rodney before he departed.

* * *

The door chime sounded. Rodney checked his watch, or tried to, being reminded again that he didn't have it. He opened his eyes toward the door and saw the door control seeming to project an image like a hologram. He stood up tried to get over to look at it quickly, whacking his ankle on the coffee table as he rushed.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," he stammered as he hopped on one leg over to the door.

The door control was projecting a hologram with writing in Ancient. He didn't even know they could _do_ that.

_They've discovered my intentions. I've learned too much. It's an ancient enemy. The..._ Rodney couldn't translate the next few words, but it seemed like a title of sorts. _'have infiltrated the council, their minds are under control. Experiment in progress. Closet in section et sei ot. There is an Asteraceae being held prisoner, help her if you are able. Goodbye McKay'_

The message cut short, and the screen disappeared. Rodney's blood ran cold, He tore out of the door and ran to the nearest transporter. Screw the privileges, he needed to get across the city _NOW_. The transporter took him just down the hall from Svard's quarters. He could already see the door was open.

"Out of the way," he approached the threshold, fearing what he might see around the corner. He entered the room, only to see his friend on the floor, being rolled onto a stretcher. Two men, medical staff were in the room; one of them spread a sheet over the body.

"What happened?" he demanded of the medics.

"It was a heart attack," one of them explained. "We arrived too late."

Rodney stood dumbfounded as they picked up the body and attempted to carry him out. He blocked the door.

"A heart attack! What the heck kind of explanation is that? He was alive only moments ago!"

The medic stared at him, and Rodney flinched when he saw the glazed and clouded over look of his eyes.

"He has been dead for several hours."

Rodney backed away from the door, allowing them to pass by. They turned the corner, and Rodney attempted to follow. He stepped out into the hallway and turned to the right and to the left, but the whole length was empty. He even looked straight up just to be sure, but there was nothing. Where had they gone?

Fear welled up in his gut as he realized things had just gone from bad to worse. How could they have just disappeared like that? He stood motionless for a second, listening, making sure there was nothing.

He set off toward the transporter; he needed to see the message again. Maybe there was something that would explain what was going on.

He reached his room and immediately pulled apart the door control, searching for signs of tampering or additional technology that wouldn't normally be there. He retrieved some of the diagnostic equipment he kept on his bedside. His work allowed him one personal tablet computer, which he attached to the control.

Searching the machine code, he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Nothing that would explain what he'd seen. He stared at the screen of his tablet computer, seeing the lines of code. Suddenly, a whole new subroutine appeared and changed.

"It's rewriting itself." Rodney muttered.

Then he saw it. The message appeared again on his screen in the form of machine code, the subroutine had an expiration of twenty seconds before it deleted itself again.

He stared it over, memorizing it. The numbers were of a location within the city. Whatever was going on had something to do with that section. Then there was that word again. Asteraceae. That had to be the third or fourth time he heard Svard say that. But there was something else; he'd heard that word before back home, in his own time, he just couldn't remember when or who said it. He figured it was a race of people, but who were they? Why was it important?

Something downloaded onto his diagnostic computer and saved itself. A video message.

_"Make sure the entire city sees this. Get out of your quarters as soon as possible." _was the note accompanying the video.

"Oh no," Rodney said weakly.

Rodney hurried and made sure the errant coding deleted itself, then he thought of something. He needed to protect himself, so he set in place one extra security feature before he disconnected his test equipment. He hurried out of the door, and walked briskly away. He felt like he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

He walked for several minutes, not in any particular direction, just making sure that he was away from his quarters. He needed a little time to gather his thoughts, to form a plan of action.

"Oh, I'm so screwed," he moaned to himself when he was sure nobody was watching. Here he was stuck ten-thousand years in the past, a bunch of creepy disappearing people trying to kill him, and the deadline for his return trip home ticking away. It was a bit much to take in a once.

"Stop it," he scolded. "You're going to get through this. I've been in tighter spots before." He didn't know whether or not that was true, but he didn't feel like thinking about it too hard.

Perhaps if he could find evidence that Svard was murdered, those responsible would be exposed. But how would he do that? If there was a body to examine for cause of death, perhaps, but there probably wouldn't be.

The floor shuddered, followed by the city general alarm. He saw a transporter nearby, and turned aside to look at the information screen. He saw the schematic of the city, with the section where his apartment was shaded red, meaning off limits.

"Crap," Rodney said, realizing that somebody was seriously trying to kill him.


	4. Chapter 4

Section et sei ot. That's what the message said. Rodney considered that he was following in the footsteps of a dead-man, but he supposed he had one advantage over Svard. They thought he was dead, while he was very much alive. Before he left his quarters, he set the life signs detector on a loop to show him moving around the room as if he were going about his business.

He looked to his right and left, hoping nobody would come along and notice his tablet computer was plugged into one of the city's communication conduits. The news was an errant drone had been fired from a battleship that was parked on the east pier and had miraculously flew all the way around the city to blow up his apartment. They were reporting one casualty, presumably himself. The people behind this would think he was dead, which meant their guard would be down.

Section et sei ot was eerily right on the route toward his workplace. He had to pass by the access hallways that led into that section every day. There was nothing conspicuous about it, no guards, no special access required. He even had met some people that worked in that section and talked with them. They explained their work was something like bio-engineering. They were vague about the specifics, but Rodney was used to that, having himself worked in top secret government programs. He was quite used to having to be vague about his work.

He entered the hallway, looking to his right and left for something suspicious. Every door was labeled, albeit the words were terms he couldn't translate; nothing seemed too secretive about it.

He came to the end of the hallway, only seeing one door that was next to the last that wasn't labeled. He ensured that nobody was watching and activated the door control.

It was a cleaning supply closet, complete with mops and brooms.

What the heck was he even looking for? Had there been some other clue in the message? He shut the door and started walking back the way he came. He was considering giving up when something he'd seen re-played in his mind. He did an about-face and jogged back to the broom closet to look inside again. The whole closet was unusually well lit, and the reason was immediately obvious. There were three sconces on the back wall. Rodney stared at them, thinking he'd seen something like this before. He kicked the mop bucket out to the side and stood in the space. He touched all three in sequence, and predictably, nothing happened.

He looked around and saw another sconce on the wall across from the closet. Looking up and down the hall, he noticed only now that there was only the one light fixture on the wall through the entire hallway. The rest was embedded lighting. He touched that one, then walked back inside the closet and touched those three in sequence.

A room opened up in front of him, definitely not an ordinary broom closet. The walls were black in color, and the lighting was very dim until he stepped in, which activated the lighting. There were vials of liquid in test tubes lining the tables and shelves. There was a pedestal in the center of the circular room and control panel which looked familiar. The sight of the device device gave him pause when he recognized it as a DNA manipulation device.

The room ended in doorway leading into a dark room. He stepped forward cautiously and peered inside. He could tell the room was very large by the sound of his footsteps echoing throughout. Staring into the black void was too much for him to handle; fearing something might jump out of the darkness and attack him. He retreated back into the laboratory. He rested his back on the wall and noticed light suddenly spilling out of the room. He jolted around and noticed he had inadvertently touched a recessed light control.

He peered around the corner, assessing the room. It was huge! How the heck could they hide something like this in the city without somebody noticing all the extra unused space?

The whole room was filled with stasis pods, all of them darkened and apparently empty. All except one at the other end of the room. Even from a few hundred feet away, he could see that the chamber's occupant was a wraith. He stepped cautiously through the hall, looking to the right and to the left at all the empty chambers. If the occupant at the end was any indication, then he could probably be safe in guessing these pods were intended for wraith. The distance to the end of the hall was even longer than it looked, and now that he was in the room, he saw that there were at least four rows of stasis pods, stacked three high from floor to ceiling.

He finally reached the other end of the row and turned around to the other aisle, again, all of them looked empty. He looked back to the only occupied pod and saw that it was a wraith queen in stasis. That in itself was disturbing, but there was something else.

He'd seen that face before. He approached, double checking the control panel nearby to ensure that the chamber was active and that she was immobile. He paused, wondering where he could have seen her before. He ran through the times he'd confronted a wraith queen. Honestly he was terrible with remembering faces, and even more so with wraith, who all looked the same to him. He couldn't remem... wait...

The noise of a transporter activating spilled into the hall.

"Of course you would you son of a..." he cursed as he ducked in between the back wall and the aisle of pods. He stayed perfectly silent as a few sets of footsteps walked into the room. The transporter activated again, and shortly after another person walked in.

"You've taken care of both of them?" one of them asked. Their whispers echoed throughout the large hall.

"Their death's seemed like an accident. Nobody will be the wiser." another answered.

"How is our queen progressing?"

"Not well, she is resisting the mental aspect of the transformation with more strength than we at first anticipated."

"This same situation happened in over ninety percent of the other female subjects. It's also curious that only ten percent actually volunteer, and the rest have to be captured. It seems that they're more successful at resisting than we predicted."

"I have a theory," the one said. "We didn't fully account for their species increased mental ability. I suspect this, coupled with their unwillingness is preventing the physical changes in the brain from occurring."

"Why then do we not see this problem with the males?"

"We had no shortage of volunteers."

"So the treatment only works if they want it to?"

"Yes,"

"It's a shame it's so difficult, They really would have been the perfect choice otherwise. How are the physical changes in this one?"

"Complete."

There was the noise of shuffling and footsteps near to where he was standing. He had his head angled away from where they were, but he dared not move it. Fortunately, they didn't seem to suspect an intruder.

"Our plans can't be delayed much longer, the armies are growing restless. We may soon not be able to restrain them."

"We have a ship for her?" Rodney was beginning to recognize that voice from somewhere. It was strange, he could almost put a face to it.

"Yes, but we cannot let her take control of it, not knowing if any of her former self remains. We may just have to dispose of this one."

He was one of the council members. The one he'd seen Svard talking to earlier! The sound of their footsteps sounded like they were walking away, and Rodney took a brief glance to see who they were.

Rodney peeked briefly around the corner and saw three people in the room. Two of them were partially facing him, the ones with glazed eyes that he'd seen earlier. The third was the council member.

"Wait another day, Perhaps she will be ready by then. Our plan is set, and as soon as the last Lantean outpost is vacated, we will inform the hives to sever ties with the Lanteans. You will travel to our home galaxy after the solar storm is past to tell them of all we've accomplished. Shortly after, the Lanteans will be on their knees, and the armies of the Ori will be able to save this galaxy with no resistance."

"Hallowed are the Ori," the glazed-eyed one said.

He heard the sound of several footsteps leaving. He waited for the sound of the transporter to activate, then waited an arbitrary twenty seconds. All these thoughts buzzed around in his head, and he wasn't sure whether he was going to move out into the open or throw up. Probably better to be out in the open if that happened. He still couldn't see behind him, so he edged sideways slowly and quietly into the open. Good, nobody was there.

Things had just become a thousand times worse. Now the Ori were involved. Now he knew that the ones with glazed eyes must have been something like the priors. He had heard their appearance described before, but he was just now making the connection.

He looked to the stasis pod, having worked it out a few minutes ago who it was. It was Teyla's friend, the wraith who had helped her escape captivity aboard a hive ship. Now he remembered. Asteraceae! That's what she had called herself. The pieces of the puzzle sorted themselves in his mind.

He walked closer to the stasis pod, noticing she was dressed in simple brown clothing, a departure from the black leather he'd seen her wearing last. He noticed the additional equipment which seemed to be wired into her head. What exactly were they doing here?

That question was better answered at the terminal of the DNA manipulator. He ran through the hall back into the lab to the terminal. He still had his computer, perhaps he could collect enough data to make sense of what they were trying to do. He looked over the controls, making sure he wouldn't accidentally activate the thing. None of the controls were labeled, and to top it off, he had to stand on the emitter to reach the buttons. Definitely the worst user interface ever. It would be safer to probe it through the diagnostic computer. He stepped down and found the diagnostic port on the back of the panel, plugging his diagnostic computer into it.

The data was immediately available to him. The encryption was so halfhearted, it was broken in a few seconds. Guess there was little reason to encrypt something hidden in a secret laboratory.

The titles of the data files were either mundane or technical. A few of them caught his eye however. Apparently at first they were using the Lantean battleships as transports to move around the 'converted,' wraith troops, and later were able to use wraith hive ships after they had been constructed. That bit of information seemed odd, as it would be relatively difficult to hide any kind of wraith ship from the city. He looked for something that would indicate what they were doing to the wraith they brought here, but nothing he read made sense to him. It was really something for a geneticist, or bio-engineer to understand. Unfortunately, their plan wasn't entirely spelled out.

The biggest question now was what was he going to do? As far as he knew, the Ori knew nothing about the Pegasus galaxy, at least in his time. Maybe their plan fails on it's own? What if he didn't need to do anything to intervene?

He looked over to the woman in stasis. Someone would have to intervene with her. She couldn't be left here and still be there to help Teyla when the time came.

He was sure he could remove her from stasis, but he wasn't sure how much time that would take. He needed to know those creeps wouldn't return.

"Their biometric readings would be different," Rodney muttered. "There must be some kind of sabotage in the biometric scanner system." Luckily, he was very familiar with that particular system. He held up his tablet computer triumphantly, knowing that he had a pretty good chance of getting those two taken care of. The console of the DNA manipulator would probably have a connection with some of the city's basic systems, enough for him to hack his way into the biometric scanner in the control room.

It was a few minutes before he realized there was no connection to the city whatsoever. It was almost like the place was an island within the city. A thought occurred to him, and he put the computer down briefly and walked around the lab. There was another door in the lab beside the transporter. He walked over to it and activated the control to open it. Another short hallway appeared, and he quickly walked to the end of that and opened the door.

There was a stairwell leading up, and above his head there was blue sky. He saw sand trailing down and filling the bottom of the stairwell. He took a few steps up, his head emerging in a cold breeze and bright sunshine. He walked up onto the sand and looked around, shading his face with his hand.

All around was a landscape of sand dunes, the sand gray and grainy. A few dried shrubs punctuated the valleys in between the dunes, and farther along, steam poured out of natural vents in the ground. Something about this landscape looked familiar.

"The second planet," Rodney muttered. The solar system had a second habitable planet, which was mostly a desert. His last trip here was a little less than pleasant, and the discomfort made him remember how important it was to hang onto his computer, which he had carelessly left connected to the machines inside. He descended the steps into the facility. It was a pretty clever way to hide the facility and still be in transporter range with the city. He found his computer, right where he left it.

If he couldn't figure out what all this was for, then he would try and bring it back to someone who could. He transfered all the data his computer could hold, then disconnected it from the console.

He stood still for a little while, thinking. What was his next course of action? He could decide to leave and not get involved. Something about that just didn't seem right. He just couldn't shake the feeling that it was not the right decision. Then there was the message. 'Help her if you are able.' Well, here he was, and he was 'able.'

He walked back to the stasis pod, very nervous and unsure about what he was going to do. He met her once, and she _seemed_ nice enough. Last word was she was living alongside the Athosians. The Athosians indicated that she was getting along well, and that they were thankful for what she had done to help Teyla. Still, that didn't mean she was the same person. Heck, for all Rodney knew, she might just attack him as soon as he released her. Despite what he thought he knew about her, she still looked like a wraith.

He paced back and forth in front of the stasis chamber, running his hands frustratedly through his hair. He hated it when he couldn't come to a solid decision. He was only hours away from having to step through the stargate to be sent forward in time, and he still didn't have a solid plan to acquire a jumper. Add to that the need to find some way for the video message to play all throughout the city at the same time. Releasing her from stasis could at worst, be dangerous for him, and at best could delay him. Before, he could move the city with stealth, but having her with him would be a little difficult to hide. Then again, he read the report that Teyla wrote. He heard what abilities this, Asteraceae had.

"Screw it," he said, forming a decision as he approached the control panel. He honestly thought it would be more difficult than it was to locate the proper buttons. There was one labeled in Ancient, "Release," in bold letters. He pressed the button, and an alarm sounded loud and piercingly.

The glass window evaporated and the equipment attached to her head retracted, leaving some very unsavory pierce marks. It's occupant fell forward and out, collapsing onto Rodney.

"Woah," Rodney said, unsure whether he should let her fall or help her up. The alarm stopped, and the woman curled up into a ball, clutching her head.

"Hey uh," Rodney said, trying to get her attention. She was immobile like rock. He couldn't help but think of a coiled snake. You know it's ready to attack, but you don't know when it will.

"I'm sorry," he said trying to sound friendly. "Look, I don't know what they were doing to you, but I promise I'm here to help." She was silent in return. "You know, you'd really think they would design these things so you were lying down, that way you didn't...fall...over."

"Who are you?" She moaned.

"My name is Rodney."

"Run... Rodney." She said.

Rodney looked all around him, unsure of the danger she was referring to, and only in a split second he realized she was referring to herself. She jumped up suddenly, throwing him to the ground, grabbing him by the shirt collar and raising her hand against him. She stared him down with predator eyes that longed for blood. He felt the influence on his mind, causing his limbs to go limp, the same feeling he got when he was asleep and trying to wake himself up. His mind was frantic, but his body was comfortable and sleepy.

"Please-don't" he stammered clumsily, his mouth slow to respond. She became wide eyed and backed away suddenly, releasing him. Rodney's body responded with a delay, releasing a huge amount of adrenaline all at once, making him feel jittery. He couldn't keep his hands still they were shaking so badly.

"I'm sorry," she said backing away. "I can't..." She collapsed on the floor again, clutching her head. Rodney wasn't feeling much better than she looked. He was feeling sick again, probably from adrenaline overdose She obviously didn't want to hurt him, but something was influencing her otherwise.

"What did they do to you?" Rodney asked, standing up, his knees feeling unstable.

"My family," she sobbed, "Such..."

How was he going to help her? What the heck had he gotten himself into!

"They were changing me into something else," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were an enemy."

"That's okay." Rodney said, his heart rate finally coming down. "I'm still here."

She glanced at him, and Rodney couldn't tell if she was angry or something else. It was the eyes that made it difficult to tell.

"Where is the other one?" she said after a time.

"What other one?" Rodney asked.

"How long has it been?" she pleaded. "Another tried to rescue me, an old man. He was found by the others, and I was imprisoned again."

"What Svard?" Rodney asked with surprise. "Did he have a limp when he walked?"

She stared at him and nodded subtly.

"That was just a few hours ago."

"What happened to him?"

"Well," he considered what he would say briefly, but couldn't think of anything more easy to explain. "He's dead."

She averted her eyes, shaking her head as if she were trying to cast off some thought. "She's taunting me."

"What?"

"Nothing...I...He left me with instruction on how to deliver a message to all the people in the city. He didn't explain what the message was before we were found."

"Message... Oh, right." Rodney held up the tablet computer he was carrying with him. "I have the message."

"Then we should not delay." She stood up, searching around the room briefly, then walking toward the transporter.

She stepped into the transporter closet, a mirror of the broom closet he'd been in earlier, sans mops and brooms. "Wait a minute..." She activated the controls.

Rodney wasted no time in following. The hallway was dark from the dimmed lighting and nobody was present except her.

"The other explained to me that the population of the city is unaware of the plot these few have engaged in."

"I suppose so," Rodney replied.

"How are they so ignorant of all that is happening? How have they done nothing to prevent the massacre of my race!"

"I don't know," Rodney replied a little loudly. He scolded himself to remain more quiet. "It hasn't exactly been easy for me to accept. I've seen high ranking members of the Lantean military coordinating wraith attacks. All I can think of is that they've been brainwashed somehow. The rest of the people, I don't know, maybe they're just kept stupid."

She hissed angrily.

"You're not going to, attack me or anything, right?"

Her glare indicated she didn't approve of the implication.

"Right, dumb question."

"Follow me."

"Yup, following you for now."

"You know more of theses people than I do. Will such a message be noticed or heeded?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry but I can't predict what they'll do if they hear what's been happening."

"There may be time yet to save my race if this sickness ends."

Rodney wouldn't bring himself to mention anything to her of what he already knew.

"What of our escape?"

"Oh, right," Rodney said, bringing his mind back to that subject. "Oh," he said gravely, realizing what that would mean for her. "There's a huge amount of solar flare activity happening now. We can't step through the stargate right now without risking being transported into the future or to the past."

She stared at him blankly.

"Look, I'm sorry. I can imagine that this is a lot to take in all at once, but it's the best I can do! I've calculated that in," he tried to look at his non-present watch. "Well, about two hours, if I step through the gate, I will be sent forward nine thousand nine hundred years."

"How is that helpful?"

"Well, if we step through at that time, I'll know exactly where we end up, but any sooner or later, and we could be sent anywhere in any time period."

"Your mind shows the meaning better than your words," she replied.

"What?" Rodney asked as he continued slinkering along the hallway.

"I understand what you have planned. You are far from your own home, separated by time, but not distance."

"How did you know that?"

"Because you are attempting with much effort to help me understand. Your thoughts I almost can't shut out."

Rodney instantly became worried about what information he could divulge.

"What's your name?" she asked.

He looked to her, wondering if it was a joke. "Why don't you tell me?"

"You have not chosen to reveal it to me."

"My real name is Rodney, but while I'm here, everyone calls me Aemilius."

"You would prefer Rodney?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "What about you, what do I call you?"

"Syntyche," she replied.

Now he remembered her name. It was the same name.

They were getting closer to the city center where the jumper bay was located.

Suddenly a door to their right opened, and a whole group of armed guards exited through it. Rodney put up his hands in a sign of surrender, except none of the guards seemed to notice either him or the other. Rodney looked to the Asteraceae and noticed she was standing still with her eyes closed, as if concentrating.

"They should not notice us," she explained. "Do not abuse this, they will notice you if you draw attention to yourself."

"Right," Rodney said. "Do all of you know how to do that? Because seriously, we need to know what to expect if we ever have a wraith running around the city or something."

"Few will have that ability. I have learned it."

"Well that's good. I was afraid that..."

Another group of soldiers crossed them, bursting through a wide door, and Rodney stood still mid-stride right in between the marching columns.

He exhaled as they passed without touching or seeing him.

"Please be more careful," Syntyche pleaded.

"Right, uh, good idea."

"How do you know me?" she asked. "You seem to have memories of me, and yet we've never met."

"What's with all the mind reading, can't I have a little privacy? Look, it's complicated. Now I'd love to explain it right now, but I have more important things to worry about, like not getting caught."

"But you've already been discovered Aemilius, or do you prefer Doctor McKay?"

Rodney turned and saw the man he'd seen talking earlier with one of the priors. He stood in front of a closed door, seemingly in the middle of the hallway.

"I hope nobody ever calls me Aemilius again," he said quietly.

"Yes I can see you. Your little deceptions won't work with me," he said looking at Syntyche.

Rodney watched her, seeing the predator look return to her eyes. The man lashed out with his hand as if pushing something away. She flew backward, impacting the wall and collapsing to the ground, flinching slightly as she lay unconscious.

He felt something in his head, like someone was whacking his head against a hard surface. It was the same sense he got the last time they met.

"I sensed you were, out of place the moment we met, doctor McKay. Somehow, you know of the Ori. I sense you are against them." He stepped closer as he spoke. "I cannot allow our plan to be revealed. Who knows what havoc these peons could render to my plan if they knew what was being done to them?"

Rodney felt weightless and he lifted off the ground. He tried yelling out, but suddenly couldn't breathe. He felt the restriction around his neck become tighter, and he flailed, trying to break free of the grasp, but there was nothing except air around his neck.

He didn't have to endure that for very long. The man began to shudder, and then to gasp. Rodney fell face first down on the ground. Stars entered his vision, and and faded out almost completely, while his hearing seemed to dull to almost nothing.

Rodney heard the sounds of struggle, a muffled and short breathed screaming, and then silence.

His vision returned sometime afterward and his head stopped hurting. As he sat up, he saw immediately what happened.

Syntyche stood a short distance back, clutching her blood covered hand as if she were horrified by it. He looked on the ground beside him and saw why. His mind was slow to respond, and it took him a few seconds to put the two together.

"Why did you do that?" Rodney asked.

Syntyche was silent for a short time, just staring. "He..."

Rodney stood up slowly, gauging whether he would be able to walk without passing out.

"Let's move on," Rodney said. "We still have to deliver the message before we can leave."

She looked ahead of them a short way. "He knew we would try to come here. He was guarding that place."

Rodney approached the closed doorway which was expectedly locked. He quickly pulled apart the door control panel and shorted the door opening mechanism.

Inside, there was a single control console.

"Are you sure this is what we're looking for?" he asked

Syntyche appeared distant, and took a moment to register the question. "Yes."

"All right," Rodney said, beginning to work on deciphering what the console's function was.


	5. Chapter 5

"I've got it." Rodney said. "This is the control server for the neural interface network, which I gather is some type of highly advanced social media." He looked behind him, but the Asteraceae was not paying attention, instead staring at the wall silently.

"Right." Rodney said, understanding that she wasn't in a talkative mood. He attached his tablet computer to the console. Uploading the video message was a simple matter. Now all he needed to do was set it to broadcast to all the users at once. A simple diagnostic sequence would be enough if he inserted the video playback into that script.

"Done," Rodney said a few moments later, as though it were only a simple feat.

He stepped back from the console as Svard's likeness appeared on the interface.

_"My friends, my people."_ Svard began _"If you don't recognize me, I am General Svard Foralkus, retired member of the Lantean military. As I give this message, there are those in the city who seek my life even as I speak. If you are seeing this message, it is likely that I am already dead. _

_"There has been in place for several years now, a plan to weaken and eventually destroy our race and our presence in this galaxy. The plan has been initiated by those working on behalf of the Ori, the enemies of old. Over the last several years, they have destroyed the Asteraceae, a largely peaceful race. They have manipulated them for their own purposes, changing them into the wraith we know today for the purpose of destroying us, and terrorizing the people's of this galaxy. Those that wouldn't convert were destroyed. As far as I know, there are almost none of that original race left."_

Rodney turned around, noticing that Syntyche was paying close attention to the message. He could imagine how she felt by seeing it written on her visage.

_"I wish that were the extent of this wretched plan, but it is not. Our own people have been manipulated by one means or another, into helping this plan along. Some of the captains of our battleships have been helping the wraith in their campaign of terror by planning and coordinating attacks. This uneasy alliance was planned to fail when the Ori were ready to begin their invasion. Contrary to reports, our military presence in the galaxy has been diminished to the walls of the city itself. Our defensive outposts have been abandoned, and our allies have shunned us. They know our role in this plan, they mock our ignorance. In our weakened state, we would be the first defeated, followed by the wraith once their purpose was used up. The people's of this galaxy would fall into line, serving the Ori just as they intended. _

_The perpetrators of this plan are still within the walls of the city. Since I can no longer able to help, it is up to all of you to find them out and bring them to answer for their crimes._

_Even among our own government..."_

The lights cut out, and all power to the console was cut.

"Of course they would, the bastards." Rodney said. The emergency lighting switched on.

He checked the time on his diagnostic computer, which carried it's own power supply. It was already twenty minutes to the deadline. "We need to go," Rodney said tentatively.

The Asteraceae turned her attention to him. "Very well," She said solemnly

Rodney walked out, orienting himself to try and find the Jumper bay. "We turn left," he said just as something caught the corner of his eye. He turned and froze still when he saw someone standing across the hall. It was an armed guard, and he was staring right where Rodney was standing in the doorway.

Rodney side stepped a little and noticed the man's gaze didn't follow him. Syntyche appeared in the doorway and side stepped into the hallway out of the man's line of sight. He was staring intently, squinting as if he were trying to see something distant.

"I think he might know we're here," Rodney whispered. Rodney continued on, glancing back occasionally until the man had turned and left the opposite direction. Rodney was very tempted to use the transporter, but it was a gamble who would be waiting for them on the opposite side. It took considerably longer to get there, but it was the prudent way to proceed.

Rodney began to worry about Syntyche. He searched him mind for alternative options to help her besides transporting her a few millennia into the future, but could think of none other than simply waiting until the solar storm was over. That wasn't much of an option since the odds of capture went up the longer they remained in the city and the longer they remained still. Despite Svard's message, it was unlikely they would understand why he was sneaking around and sabotaging the city, aided by a wraith.

Why couldn't this have been as simple as he planned? Why did Svard have to go and involve him in all of this?

"You are beginning to regret helping me." Syntyche stated flatly.

"No," Rodney denied. "What would give you tha... Oh right. Well, it's... I'm concerned this may not be the best option for you."

"Do you have any other?"

"Well, no, but that doesn't mean there isn't some other way you can escape the city. We just haven't thought of it."

They reached the entrance of the jumper bay as he spoke, the entrance and door surprisingly was unguarded. Rodney walked up to the door control and opened it seeing wasn't locked. He peered inside, seeing a jumper bay full of ships and no people.

"Ha!" Rodney exclaimed, turning around as he was about to comment on the negligent security.

"We have a wraith incursion, entrance to the gate ship bay!" someone shouted. The same person jolted around the corner at the end of the hallway and fired a weapon at them. The blast hit Syntyche, who collapsed limply to the ground. Rodney put his back to the wall out of reflex, his mind racing in a jumbled mess of thoughts. He needed to get both of them out of there. The person didn't emerge from again around the bend for several seconds, or perhaps it was only one second; it was hard to tell. He quickly knelt to the ground and grabbed Syntyche by the wrists, dragging her along with much difficulty through the door. His eyes were fixed at the end of the hallway, waiting for the shooter to emerge again to take another shot. Rodney knew he wouldn't miss if he did. He turned into the hatch of the nearest jumper, dropping Syntyche rather roughly onto the floor as he flipped the lever to close the door. The sliding doors at the other end of the bay opened, admitting a whole bunch of armed soldiers.

"Come on, come on," he said watching as the door closed at a snails pace. The hatch never closed this slowly before! He saw the faces of the men as they approached. They stopped in firing position and one of them fired a blast which skipped past the door and almost hit his head.

"Watch it! he yelled angrily. He saw the burn mark where the blast hit. The door sealed, and he ran over to the jumper controls, activating the engines and opening the lower doors all at once. He hoped all the people who had ran into the jumper bay would have enough sense to get out of the way in time. He lifted the ship off the ground and dialed the address he'd planned on.

The timing of their departure wasn't exactly ideal, but he'd planned on that contingency. He slid the ship through the floor just as the opening was wide enough, smooth just like Sheppard would have done. He grinned, wishing he'd been there to see that.

He was about to maneuver the ship forward when the shield activated, preventing his escape. He saw guards and soldiers in his peripheral vision firing their stunners at the ship. The displays and lights began to flicker with each blast.

"Oh, no. No, no no!" he said. "This is some thanks for saving your sorry asses from an Ori invasion!"

The shield lowered unexpectedly, and Rodney was dumbfounded for a second before he snapped to and threaded the ship through the gate.

The trip to him seemed almost instantaneous as he saw the blue sky and bright sunlight. He lowered the jumper's climb and saw the expanse of snow covered land ahead of him, the reflected light of the sun preventing him from staring too long. Rodney noted how un-spectacular the trip had felt. He began to doubt that he had traveled through time at all. He quieted the doubts in his mind, grasping the tablet computer a little more tightly. He had all the data and equations from the event programmed there. Even if he didn't know how far forward he'd been sent, he _would _know as soon as he did the calculations. The terrain all around was hilly and tree covered, separated in between hills by large flat fields. Rodney spotted a nice flat snow covered field and slowed the jumper, setting it down softly in the snow which groaned as the weight compressed it.

He sat still for a moment, staring out across the flat expanse to the trees at the other end of the field. Why had the shield been lowered? They had him trapped there, but he had still been able to escape. He thought for a little while about who could have arranged that. Who besides Svard would have known about his plan and been there to help him?

Rodney shut down all of the systems except for the heater, which he would need since it was below freezing outside. The jumper's on-board computer wouldn't be the best platform for finding a suitable black hole, the ideal orbital distance and speed in order to slow the relative passage of time, but he could make it work. He wondered if he would have thought the same way if his team were here with him. Would he have said it was impossible?

He looked to Syntyche, still lying unconscious in a heap. Rodney wondered when the effects of the stunner would wear off for her. If it was him, it would be a few hours, but he didn't know if she would be more resistant to it's effects. He took a moment to help her off the floor onto one of the benches, then went back to the control chair to continue his work.

Some time passed, and Rodney became less absorbed in his work, and more distracted by the cold which was creeping in. He checked the temperature controls and confirmed that the temperature had creeped down to ten degrees. Why wasn't the heater working? He could have sworn that only a few minutes had passed, except the clock on his computer showed an hour since the last time he looked at it.

"Great McKay, so much for contingency planning!" he muttered angrily. He had considered changes in climatic conditions in his planning, the only problem was his apartment with all his clothing and equipment had been blown up. He had his tablet computer, which at least put him ahead in the calculations.

That didn't distract him so much as the rhythmic creaking sound that seemed to be growing louder. He abandoned his work and searched around the jumper for the source of the noise. He put his ear to various places on the side wall, but the sound seemed to be coming from everywhere.

He went back to his control chair, preparing to run a diagnostic on the systems when the source of the noise became apparent. A man wearing a black wide brimmed hat and wool clothing stood in front of the window staring in.

"Oh," Rodney said, raising his hand up to wave. Where had he come from? He peered through the window to the right and left and saw a small house to the left, right in the direction he'd come. The view of was it blocked entirely by the trees from the angle of his approach.

The man returned the gesture, although he was still staring with his mouth agape.

He really should have thought to do a life signs scan before landing. Then again, he thought the cloak was working at the time. It must have stopped working when the ship was enduring being shot.

"First contacts are always fun," Rodney said, frowning as he thought of all the times that it had turned out poorly.

"Hello?" the man outside called through the glass. "Who are you? What are you doing in my field?"

"Oh, is this your field?" Rodney called back loudly. "I'm sorry I didn't know." He considered his options. He could just take off and fly away, pretending that this encounter never happened, or he could stay to say hello. He looked to the alien lying unconscious in the back. That probably wouldn't go over well if they saw her. "I'm sorry, I have to go now." he called. He cloaked the jumper, or at least he thought he did. The man continued to stare at him through the glass. He tried extending the drive pods, only to learn that they were inoperative. The drive as well seemed to be unresponsive.

"What the heck!" Rodney exclaimed. "You were just working an hour ago!" He called up the diagnostic program and a schematic of the affected circuits appeared on the HUD. Fortunately, there was no physical damage to the structure of the ship. The only problem was the dielectric between conductors leading to the control units had been broken down. The transient voltages could have scrambled the signals and may have caused melting in some of the circuits. The first step would be a re-set of the systems. Fixing the circuits wouldn't be a problem if the proper tools were on board, which he already confirmed they were.

"Who are you?" the man called again through the glass. Rodney knew the re-set would take a few minutes to complete, and then the troubleshooting after that could take an hour or so if he did it right. Here was another decision to make. Should he ignore him, or go out to talk? If he ignored him, the situation could escalate. He imagined angry villagers with pitch forks and torches bashing their way into the ship. If he went out to greet him, there was a chance he could talk his way out of a major incident.

He saw the man was unarmed, and seemed to be more curious than threatening. Rodney initiated the system re-set, then walked to the hatch, opening it. As the hatch lowered to the ground, He heard the man crunching through the snow around the ship.

"Hi," Rodney greeted flippantly, stepping out onto the snow. The snow was deeper than his ankles, and once again, he got snow in his shoes. He activated the control to raise the hatch, but not before the man had a chance to look inside.

"Hello," the man said. "Who are you?" He asked, peering into the jumper.

"My name is McKay." He inadvertently left out his first name. He always knew the cold interfered with his thinking.

"What is this thing?"

"Uh, it's a ship."

"A ship?"

"Yes, one that flies through the air." He wrapped his arms around himself as a cold breeze blew past him.

"Have you come through the stargate?"

"Yes, just a little while ago."

"I saw when you set it down in my field," the man said, you've been sitting there over an hour. I finally found the nerve to go see what you were doing."

Rodney covered his ears, just noticing how they had begun to hurt in the slight breeze.

"You aren't prepared for this sort of weather are you?"

"I didn't know what time of year it was." He honestly wasn't sure yet even what century it was.

The rear hatch began opening again.

"What?" Rodney exclaimed. He was very familiar with the systems re-set sequence. Nothing in the programming should have control over the rear door. It should be manual control only.

"Oh," he said under his breath when he noticed Syntyche standing in the entrance. Time to deal with a major incident.

"Who is this?" The man asked calmly.

"Uh, well uhh." Rodney looked to the man, waiting for some sort of delayed reaction, but he seemed to remain calm.

"My name is Syntyche," she replied. "Who are you?"

"Gero," the man replied. "I'm the owner of this field you're resting on. I've been trying to be polite about this, but I have crops overwintering in the ground. I don't want them to be damaged."

"Perhaps we should move the ship?" Syntyche suggested.

"Well, yeah, that would be a great idea, but it's been damaged. It won't fly until I fix it." Rodney turned to the Gero. "Look, these ships are pretty light. I'm sure your crops will be fine."

"If you are sure," he said tentatively. "Neither of you look prepared for this sort of cold." He turned toward his house. "You're welcome inside if you wish."

The warm house looked inviting. Not to mention that the heater system on the ship was probably one of the disabled circuits.

Rodney began walking toward the house, along with Syntyche.

"Are you messing with his head?" Rodney asked her quietly. "I thought for sure he would freak out when he saw you."

"No," she replied. "I didn't know he was present when I opened the door. Perhaps he is genuinely un-bothered by me."

"How is that even possible?" Rodney muttered. She glared at him momentarily. "What?" McKay said innocently.


	6. Chapter 6

The inside of the house was quiet, well decorated and clean, but warm most importantly. Rodney hadn't realized how cold he'd become sitting in the cold jumper and being outside.

Rodney sat at the table staring at the window which was glazed over with condensation, scattering the light shining through. He sat perfectly still as his thoughts buzzed around from one subject to another. Fixing the jumper should be his priority, but he wasn't actually too concerned about it. He was sure he could fix it's systems. As for finding a black hole, he could do that at any time, no rush. His mind mostly wandered to the last few months in Atlantis.

He had no idea the Ori could have been involved up until the last hour before he escaped. It was a bit discomforting to know by what narrow margins the plan had been disrupted. Those people he'd seen there executing that plan were probably not involved too closely with the Ori galaxy, otherwise they would surely have tried again in ten-thousand years. He wondered if their plan had been disrupted at all. What exactly had he accomplished? He got there too late to stop the Wraith from becoming a threat. He'd obviously been too late to stop the Ancients from being driven out of the galaxy. The only part of the plan that had been stopped was the Ori invasion. Their armies were presumably waiting for a signal that the plan had been successful. It made him feel ill to think of the gravity of his actions the last few days. He was used to making decisions involving a lot of people and a lot of resources, but this was a scale unlike anything he'd ever done before.

Presumably the wraith were meant to be a disposable threat, deadly to the Ancients, but not to the Ori. Rodney supposed the wraith were a way for the Ori to inflict huge damage on the Ancients without getting directly involved. The terror the presence of the wraith would inflict on the rest of the galaxy would undoubtedly make it so much easier for the priors to convert each world to Origin. Now they were stuck with half the plan in place. The wraith were a terror to the galaxy, but there was nobody to step in and stop it. Was everything really better off this way?

Gero stepped in, carrying a pail of water which he carried over to the woodstove. He opened the door on top of the water water tank and dumped the bucket of water in.

"McKay?" Gero asked conversationally.

"Yes,' Rodney answered.

"I don't feel I should delve too deeply into your personal business, but I am quite curious. What race is your friend there?" He gestured to where Syntyche was still recovering in the opposite room. "I've never seen any like her."

"You really don't know?" Rodney asked disbelievingly.

"No,"

"Well, she uh, describes herself as Asteraceae. I suppose you've never heard of that before."

He shook his head.

Rodney was having a hard time accepting this. "Have you ever heard of the wraith before?"

"Are you insane?" the man asked. "Have I ever...? What do you think! Every decade or so, they send their ships through, terrorizing our settlements, catching up a dozen people at a time and then flying off through the ring."

Now Rodney understood, he'd never seen troops on the ground.

"I have met with many strange races exploring through the ring, some of whom appear very different from ourselves, but no-one who appeared like your friend there."

"You've met strange races before?" Rodney asked. "Yes," Gero nodded, once a few years ago."

"Well, that's odd, because as far as I know, most of the inhabited planets in this galaxy are human populated."

"Not all obviously," Gero added.

"Well, give me an example of what they look like."

"Let's see," Gero said, seeming to think for a moment. "Those ones who called themselves 'Guardians of night,' they were..." The room became dimmed suddenly. Rodney stood up and looked out the window.

"What is it?" Gero asked.

"It's sunset," Rodney said, pointing out the window at the trees shading the sunlight. "Oh, no, no, no," he said as he realized the rays of sun he'd seen entering the room were from a westerly window, not an eastern facing one.

"It's fine," Gero said, "If you'd like, you can stay here until tomorrow. I can loan you a coat to use while you repair your craft."

"No, I can work in the dark, I've done it before." Rodney said this, knowing how completely miserable it would be.

"It's going to get very cold out there when the sun is down."

"Right," Rodney said. He had just traveled a few thousand years through time. What was another day? The black hole was still out there, and it was a matter of good fortune that he had ended up only seventy years short of his own time.

* * *

A blanket and a few pillows wasn't much of a bed, but it was comfortable enough, especially being near the woodstove where the warmth from it seeped across the wood floor he was lying on. Rodney was too used to stay-overs on alien planets not to appreciate this sort of accommodation. He knew the events from the day and the anxieties about tomorrow would likely keep him awake if he didn't shut it out. Setting his mind at rest was a skill he had yet to achieve. It was ironic, but with concentration, he could feel himself drifting off, relaxing his mind until...

The noise of wood creaking reached his ears, startling him awake again. He quickly shut it out, beginning to drift off again, but it occurred again, in the pattern of footsteps on the floor above. There was a crash, then the sound of sliding across the roof. The sound of falling firewood sounded just outside the door, followed by a muffled cry for help, which called twice.

Rodney heard Gero on the floor above stomping quickly down the stairs into the room he was resting in. Rodney scrambled around for something that would put out light, but he had nothing. The light from Gero's lantern preceded him into the room.

"What's going on!" he demanded.

"I don't know!" Rodney shouted back, "What was that noise?"

"Where's the wraith!" he demanded angrily.

The door of the adjacent room opened. "She's here," Syntyche explained calmly.

"Help," a young voice called from outside. Gero ran out through the entryway and burst out the door. Rodney untangled himself from the covers, tripping twice before he could follow. The door was propped open, moonlight casting a beam of light which trailed in. When he reached the porch, he saw Gero leaning over something just outside the overhang. He stepped carefully, barefoot down the cold steps into the ice covered snow which crunched underfoot, the sting of each step tempting him to wince in pain.

"What is it?" Rodney called.

"It's my son," Gero called, he picking up the boy and carrying him. "He slipped and fell off the roof."

Rodney looked up to the overhang edge, noting that it was a good fifteen foot drop to the boulders forming the wall.

"Fell off the...What? How could somebody just fall off a roof in the middle of the night?"

"Probably sneaking out his window." Gero said as he passed and walked up the steps. Rodney noticed the boy was bleeding from somewhere on his head, and favoring his left arm. Rodney took a few steps back and noticed the overhang had a partially open window at the very top of it. He turned around, overlooking the field below, noticing that the jumper had another set of more closely spaced footprints leading out to it and then back again.

"He was trying to get a closer look at my ship," Rodney said.

"Probably," Gero said from the doorway. I told him earlier that he was not allowed near it.

The footprints stopped at the rock pile, which which was right against the support pole which led up onto the roof. The pole had a few nails sticking out of the side at roughly foothold distance apart.

"Oh no," Rodney said, realizing what happened. He didn't envy that fall, even for him that would have really hurt.

He stepped inside quickly to evade the cold. He stood at the foot of the stairs, wondering if he should follow. Syntyche waited by the door, looking very uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Rodney asked.

"He called me wraith."

"Well, I'm sorry, but it's an easy mistake to make," Rodney reasoned, then he remembered earlier that day.

"He claimed he had never seen any race with my appearance."

"Your right, then why would he suddenly call you...?"

Gero appeared at the top of the stairs, agitation and worry present over his visage. "I'll have to travel to bring a healer here." he said, preparing to put on his coat. "I'd scold him, but he's in too much pain at the moment. Hopefully, I'll be back within two hours."

"You may not have to travel." Syntyche said. "I may be able to help him."

He paused in putting on his coats. "You would help?"

"Possibly." She said, gesturing up the stairs in a manner to ask permission.

Gero nodded, but mistrust permeated his demeanor. He led the way up the stairs, and Syntyche followed. Rodney waited until the way was clear, then followed the two of them at a slight distance.

The upstairs of the house seemed to consist only on one small landing and three doors which looked like they would whack against each other if all were opened at the same time. The whole house certainly seemed _efficient, i_f not cramped.

Rodney entered the only open door, where a single oil lamp burned, the sooty glass causing the light to shine orange. The room was decorated with interesting items placed on the shelves. A few of the knick-knacks Rodney recognized from other worlds and places that he'd explored. Obviously these people were no strangers to stargate travel.

The boy was laying almost still, save for a slight tremor. He was perfectly silent, but was wincing continually, his good arm favoring the one which was swollen. Rodney tried to get a look at his face, past the hair which was stained with blood. Rodney noted the water filled bowl by the bedside, meaning Gero had likely attempted to clean the wound. The boy looked about twelve, perhaps a little younger.

Gero stood to one side while Syntyche approached.

"I believe you now understand what I am," She stated coldly. She held out her hand. "So you know before I start how he is going to be healed."

Gero looked at her palm for a moment, "I remember now," he said coldly. "That was the mark borne by all the dead." His face showed the emotions being dredged up.

"Not this time," Syntyche said. "If you will allow it, I can heal him." She lowered her arm to her side.

Gero didn't answer immediately, but stared off into the floor. Rodney wondered why the boy didn't have anything to say about it, but he hadn't even opened his eyes yet. He realized now that the boy was behaving as as if he wasn't even fully conscious.

Gero looked to his son. "Do what you can for him." he said coldly.

Syntyche wasted no time, placing her hand on the boy's head. He gradually stopped moaning and favoring his arm, resting silently. "He won't remember this," she explained. Parting the linen shirt slightly, she rested her hand lightly on his bruised rib cage. She remained still like that for a minute; the boy hardly even twitched, and Gero watched in awe.

She removed her hand, leaving a bloody print. She took the towel out of the bowl, and after wringing it out, wiped the mark away entirely, leaving no trace.

"He should rest soundly," She stated, beginning to walk out of the room.

Gero sat down at the bedside, running his hands through the boy's hair, examining the no longer broken arm, seeing if the injuries really had healed.

Rodney decided he'd seen enough. He really needed to get some rest. Before he knew where he was going, he inadvertently found himself entering the kitchen to sit at the table next to the woodstove. His hands and feet were really cold. The room was lit by the flame-light escaping the grate of the stove, as well as by the moonlight coming in through the window. The whole house was cold except for that one spot, and he decided he would wait there awhile.

Syntyche sat adjacent to him. "You are worried about what I might do," she said quietly.

"Not so much anymore," Rodney sighed tiredly. "The thought had crossed my mind though, I certainly remember the way you attacked me before."

"It was her."

"Who?"

"The queen,"

"Sorry, sleep deprived mind here?"

She turned to glare at him, but it was only a plea for understanding. "I can still hear her, taunting me. I look at you and she tries to tempt me to set you as a servant. I look at Gero, and she taunts me to feed on him. And the boy..." She paused, clearly upset. "What she imagined for him I..."

"Voices in your head?" Rodney asked.

She nodded. "I've been keeping her away, but I'm afraid to fall asleep, or to even put my mind at rest."

"I'm guessing it has something to do with being in that stasis pod?" Rodney asked, feeling chilled at what she was telling him.

"Yes, as I said before, I was being transformed into something else."

"A wraith?"

"No," she said, closing her eyes and covering her face. "I am not a wraith. I am not one of them."

Clearly the wrong thing to say "Well, look," Rodney said nervously. "It would be risky, but I could bring you back to my own time. It's possible we could help you, reverse what was done to you."

"Could I stay with your people?" she asked, not moving or looking up.

"No," Rodney said. "Look it's nothing against you, but, there are certain things that have to happen, that you have to do in order for the timeline to stay as it is. If you came back with me, I'd probably have to send you back here once you were cured."

The door slammed, and Gero stomped into the kitchen with an arm full of wood. He knelt in front of the stove, stoking the flames with a metal rod.

"Thank you," he said. He said nothing else.

"Thank you for trusting me," She said. "You didn't know what I was earlier today, but only minutes ago, you called me wraith."

"I didn't remember," Gero said. "It happened so long ago. Just as I was drifting to sleep, I began to remember the last time the wraith invaded on foot. I was so young, and it was dark at the time. I saw the face of the wraith who was separating people to take, and those to leave. I remembered what it looked like, and that's when I began to suspect."

Nobody answered him. Rodney rested his forehead in his hand, his elbow resting on the table.

"I remember standing with my parents at the time," Gero continued. "It seemed like the entire town was caught up in the beams of light and dropped in the middle of a field, herded like we were cattle," he finished angrily. "There was a solid beam of light which extended from the ground all the way up into the sky, almost in a straight line. The one unmasked wraith was shouting in an unintelligible language, the ones he pointed to were shot and dragged off to be tossed into the beam of light. Some of the people walked into it without a fight, and some fought. The ones who fought only seemed to amuse them. Then he pointed to both my parents, My father pleaded, saying that they had a son, and someone would need to watch after me. Both of them were shot and dragged away."

Syntyche looked upset, covering her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, tone somewhat more soft.

Rodney hadn't put it together before that point, but where was the boy's mother? Had she also been taken during a culling? He didn't want to trample on emotions, so he remained silent.

"You're clearly not one of them," Gero said. "I won't hold your appearance against you."

Syntyche suddenly sat straight up, staring straight ahead. The moonlight spilling through the window eerily reflected a dim green in her eyes.

"What is it?" Gero asked.

"Someone has sent for me," she answered.

"What do you mean?" Rodney asked to clarify.

"They're calling me."

"Who?"

She glared at him again, annoyance obvious. "Someone I've known all my life. Such a long time has passed though. I never would have thought..."

She vanished. Rodney had seen people disappear due to Asgard beaming technology, but this was different. She was simply gone.

"What happened to her?" Gero asked, astonished.

"I don't know," Rodney said, gently moving his hand through the space she occupied. "I know she can prevent us from seeing her of she wants. If that's the case, then she's gone, we can't find her."

* * *

_"Hello?" he called into the abyss. He was in space suit. He felt the sensation of falling continuously, knowing that it was an effect of the weightlessness. He stared at the stars ahead, a brightly lit gas cloud ahead of him intermingled the view, adding shifting colors of violet to the stars which seemed to be moving . It was a beautifully astonishing sight. Something pulled at his legs. He ignored it until it started pulling stronger. He looked down as far as the visor of the suit would allow, and saw the stars and surrounding gas cloud as if it were being shone through a lens, the image stretched and distorted in circular pattern, the edge of it fading through all the colors to red and then to a black center._

_"Oh no," he said, knowing what would cause that sort of effect. He could feel it pulling at his legs harder and harder. He felt the muscle and bone being strained. He could feel it now in his spine and in his neck. The feeling of falling became stronger, more frightening._

_"Help!" he shouted. _The call for help manifested as a short grunt.

Rodney sat up on the makeshift cot, staring out of the window at the stars. He looked away, that being the last thing he wanted to see.

He sat there for awhile, waiting for the sun to rise. He didn't want to fall asleep again, not after that. What was most awful about the dream was; he would be forced to confront it the coming day.

He could swear the day and night cycles here took longer than on Lantea. If he ever got home, he would probably sleep for a week.

He still had no idea what happened to Syntyche, in worried him in one respect, but was relieving in another. She indicated that she was friends with whoever had taken her, and it took the burden off him to help her get settled somewhere. It actually made sense that she would have to be 'dropped off' in this time period. The mere fact that it made sense still didn't let it rest easy. She had lost so much, he wondered how anyone would be able to cope with it. At least he still had a chance to see his friends again, to be in his own home. For her, all that would be gone.

The silence throughout the house began to be overtaken by the sounds of wind picking up, causing the structure of the house to creak. Finally, he heard the sounds of footsteps on the upper floor. He didn't have to wait long for Gero to walk down the steps.

"I see you're awake." Gero greeted. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Rodney lied, stretching as he stood up. "Best night of sleep in a long time."

"Good, will you be up for venturing outside now?"

"Yes please," Rodney said tiredly.

"My coat is on the hanger by the door."

"Thanks," he said as he shuffled toward the door, the floor becoming progressively colder as he neared. He put on his shoes which were ice cold. Ignoring that, he put on the same coat he'd seen Gero wearing yesterday, and walked out into the morning twilight.

The snow which was soft the day before crunched underneath each footstep. He tried to mirror his footprints the following day. He noticed several sets of footprints leading to and from the door, and he wondered if one of them belonged to Syntyche. It would be difficult to tell regardless.

He opened the hatch of the jumper, which lowered sluggishly. A layer of frost had built up on the glass inside the ship, and it was unsurprising to see that the climate control was not functioning, although the lights came on when he entered.

He wasted no time and pulled apart the benches to access the drive pod control circuits. The space underneath the benches revealed the drive pods, as well as the drone weapons. He would have to disassemble the weapon rack partially to reach the circuits. His time spent building and fixing Lantean devices was coming in useful; he knew exactly what to look for in a shorted circuit. After carefully removing the drones and setting them aside ignoring their explosive potential, he examined each of the control circuits in the pod, and sure enough, several of them were shorted. Fixing them would be easy since the tools necessary to repair them were already on-board.

Rodney found a comfortable position on the floor, and set to work. He had to stop several times to warm up his fingers by breathing on them. The sun was coming up, but he heard the wind blowing over the ship. Even with the hatch closed, it was hard to keep warm.

An hour later, the parts had been repaired, and re-installed. He stood up, stretching his back which was sore from being hunched over, then sat down at the controls. He initiated the systems, and sure enough, they came online, no errors or problems. The climate control started working again, and Rodney sat still for a little while, enjoying the warmth.

He noticed his black hole calculations had resumed running, and were already complete. He was ready to go.

He would say goodbye to Gero, and return his coat. Rodney trudged through the snow again, which had softened with the sun which was just over the horizon. Rodney suspected the season was early spring, and that the snow would be gone from this place in only a few weeks.

He walked up the steps to the house, where Gero met him at the doorway.

"Finished already?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything's done. It's ready to go."

"I'm sorry, but breakfast won't be done for awhile yet."

"Oh well, don't worry about it, I should be home in about an hour if everything goes to plan." _An hour to me, and seventy years to you. A long time to go without breakfast._

Rodney took off the coat and handed it to Gero. "Thanks a lot by the way." He stood there awkwardly for a little while. "Well, goodbye."

"Goodbye," Gero said. waving him off as Rodney stepped down. "Feel free to visit again sometime."

"Right," Rodney said, grinning. "Sometime." He waved off, feeling a sense of loss which was hard to describe. He would never see these people again. They would be dead of old age by the time he exited orbit of the black hole. It was a strange sad feeling.

Rodney shirked it off, putting his mind to business. He trudged over to the jumper and walked onto the ramp. He was about to close the door when of all people, Syntyche stepped onto the ramp.

"What are you doing here?" Rodney asked, mouth involuntarily agape in astonishment.

"It's good to see you too." She said. Her expression did not change, but Rodney could sense the wry sarcasm. "I wanted to say thank you before you were lost to me forever."

"Where have you been, it was like you disappeared?"

"I was sent for by those who are allies of the Lanteans. They knew of me, as well as you. They reversed the changes which had been done to me by those you call Ori."

"Well, that's great, so you don't have to deal with, you know..." Rodney pointed to his head. "An evil twin, alterego...thing."

"It is gone."

"Well, that's good." Rodney said, "Well, I'm happy for you, uh, who exactly is it that helped you?"

She looked past him into the jumper. "There will be a message for you. It will be explained better than I could manage."

Rodney turned around to the jumper's HUD, "In the..?" He confirmed there was a message stored in the memory. "Oh."

She stepped off the door.

"Well, wait, where are you going to go?"

"I have friends that can help, And these people here won't be resistant to me living alongside them." She took another step back. "Goodbye Rodney."

"Well, it's not really goodbye, I mean, you'll be seeing me again in about seventy years or so." Rodney smacked his forehead, knowing that he gave too much away. He looked again to where she had stood, but there was nobody there.

"Good grief that could get annoying," Rodney said, closing the jumper hatch. "I'll just be all cryptic and mysterious and disappear whenever I feel like it," he mocked.

"Pardon?" she asked, stepping back into view.

"Oh, um, uh, I was just, uh." the hatch closed. Rodney shook his head and waved away with his hand. He wasn't going to bother.

Sitting down at the controls, he pulled up the message which had been received. The time stamp showed it being received sometime during the night.

_"Rodney McKay. If you're receiving this message, I assume your plan worked, and you have been transported several thousand years into the future. General Foralkus informed me of your situation and your plans to return to your own time when he was sure I could be trusted. When I heard that someone was attempting to steal a gate-ship on the very same day as intense solar flare activity, I assumed that it could only be you. Beside the matter, you could have asked, and I would have arranged for you to you borrow a ship, with the intention of eventually returning it. I suppose it was poor communication on my part that prevented your exit from occurring more smoothly._

_Your assertion that less than a year from the writing of this message, the city of Atlantis will be abandoned forced me to take alternative means to deliver this message to you. I entrusted the knowledge of your situation and that of the Asteraceae you escaped with to one of our distant allies. If they are present and willing, they should have already been able to reverse the genetic manipulation that was imposed on her. _

_Nonus_

That put to rest one of the questions that had been bothering him for awhile. It was probably Nonus who had lowered the shield for him. He would have thought of sending a 'thank you' reply, but it was already a bit late to do that.

Rodney activated the jumper's drive, lifted off and sped away toward the gate. The black hole he had in mind was unique only in that it was one the Lanteans spent resources to study and to monitor. It's size wasn't particularly impressive by black hole standards, being only ten solar masses.

Rodney's hands were sweating as he dialed the address. Honestly, this was scarier than being chased and shot at. The gate activated, meaning the address was still valid and the gate on the other side wasn't obstructed. He edged the jumper through, reaching the other side. A black abyss of a planet wide ocean stared at him. He knew this was one of the most dangerous places he could possibly bring the ship. He would need to surface quickly before all the heat was drawn out, overwhelming the life support system.

The stargate wasn't actually under an ocean. The planet was rocky, roughly the same mass as Earth, but it's atmosphere of nitrogen was completely liquid. Rodney guided the ship slowly upward, and as expected he saw starlight through the glass after rising only a few feet. He extended the drive pods quickly, knowing the liquid could form a solid layer on the surface and make everything stuck. The surface of the planet was completely dark. Rodney felt chilled, and he double checked the temperature controls which showed no change in inside temperature.

"All right, let's go," he said, angling the nose upward and propelling upward from the planet. Before he'd even reached proper orbit, he saw the bright speck in the distance. The accretion disc of the black hole, lit brightly by the gasses of it's companion star which it apparently ate some time ago. He sent out a signal to the observation satellite, waiting a little while before the signal was returned.

"Ah ha, there you are," he said excitedly, almost not believing that it was still working after all this time. The telemetry sent back by the satellite showed exactly what he needed to see. Nothing significant had changed since the last transmission he'd received before he left Atlantis.

He brought up the plot of the orbit he'd calculated, a highly elliptical orbit, causing him to accelerate close to the speed of light as he passed closest to the black hole. He would use the object's gravity to assist in accelerating him, using a slight additional thrust from the ship to keep him in orbit.. When the correct number of orbits passed he'd accelerate away at the aphelion, to re-take the same orbit as the planet on which the stargate was located. It was an elegant, yet dangerous dance.

Setting the ship to fly itself according to the navigation system, he accelerated toward the bright accretion disc.


	7. Chapter 7

The front glass had to be blacked out because the light from the accretion disc would be too bright for him to look at. If he were able to see outside, he'd probably see the blue stars ahead of him passing to red at an impossible speed. The ship groaned slightly, the tidal forces pulling harder on the bottom of the ship than the top. The forces at this distance wouldn't be too strong for the jumper's structure to handle, but it would be enough to rip him apart if he were outside in a space suit. That was enough to make him jittery. He thought of bringing a book along or something, since he'd have to be here for about a day according to his clock, hurling around the black hole again and again. Then again, he was too nervous even to think about one thing for any length of time.

He'd accomplished a few firsts in Earth's space exploration. He was used to taking huge risks and long-shots, but this was the first time he'd ever done it alone.

* * *

...

"What do you mean, he's stuck ten thousand years in the past!" Sheppard insisted.

Radek raised his hand slightly before adding something. "But he's in Atlantis, that's probably the safest place in the galaxy to be at that time."

"Security personnel to the gate room, unscheduled off-world activation," the gate operator said over the public com frequency.

"What teams to we have off-world?" Radek asked. "I thought..."

"Nobody at the moment," Sheppard confirmed, he and Ronon jogged away, and Radek scrambled around a bit, trying to turn off and secure his equipment before running off to see what was going on.

He almost entered the transporter on his level before Sheppard called him on his personal com frequency. "Radek, get up here."

"I'm almost there," he said annoyedly. He exited the control room transporter, seeing Sheppard and Ronon, as well as Weir gathered near the communications operator.

"What's going on?"

the communications operator answered. "We're not recieving an IDC, but we did receive a radio signal. A repeating frequency modulated sequence at forty two megahertz."

"Send it through the signal analyzer, see if we can get a pattern," Radek suggested.

"It's already working," she replied. The computer displayed a sequence of numbers, seventeen digits long.

"What does it mean?" Weir asked.

"Seventeen digits is the same length as an IDC code," Radek said.

"Cross reference that with the GDO controls." Sheppard said.

The com operator pushed the wheeled chair over a few feet to the GDO console. "It's Doctor McKay's IDC number," she said after typing in the number.

"Do you think it's really him?" Weir asked.

"I'm inclined to think so," Radek said. Our secure radio transmitters operate at forty two megahertz, and that is the correct IDC."

"Lower the shield," Weir said. "Open a channel please." The com operator nodded. "Rodney, if you can hear this, it's safe to come through."

All eyes turned toward the stargate. There was a tense pause before the gate room exploded in a cloud of mist emanating from the gate, filling the whole room with steam.

"Is this some sort of attack?" Radek shouted.

"Get everyone out!" Sheppard shouted. There was a mad scramble, the stairwells and the transporter backing up in a line. Radek turned his attention away from the log jam back to the gate room, where the silhouette of a puddle jumper was appearing out of the mist.

If this was some sort of gas attack, they'd likely already been too far exposed. Radek walked over to the railing, where the gas cloud was almost all the way dissipated, leaving the shape of an ice covered puddle jumper in the middle of the gate room floor.

"Wait a minute," Radek said as he began descending the steps toward the ship. He approached it, seeing the surface collecting ice before his eyes. He felt the heat being drawn away from his skin as he neared, meaning that the surface of the ship was very very cold. He heard the sound of ice crackling near the rear, and the sound of the door actuators whirring. Radek rounded the side of the ship to the rear hatch to see none other than Rodney stepping out the back.

"Rodney?" Radek asked, hardly believing his appearance. There were a multitude of footsteps behind him, and he was almost jolted out of the way by security teams aiming weapons at Rodney.

"Woah, woah hold on." Sheppard shouted above the ruckus.

"Rodney?" Sheppard asked, looking completely astonished.

"Yes, yes, it's me. Gee, I'm so glad to be home, I did so miss having guns pointed at me." Sheppard signaled the men to lower their weapons.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Better to ask _when_ the hell have I been. Did you get my message?"

"Uh, yes we did." Radek confirmed. "Sorry, but how did you manage to return to this time?"

"Solar flares, black holes, a planet covered in liquid nitrogen." Rodney said stepping down the ramp. "I don't know, I'll tell you all about it after I take a shower and a nap."

Sheppard touched the side of the ship. "Aggh," he exclaimed, promptly retracting his hand.

"Yeah, it's going to be a bit cold." Rodney taunted.

"It's a jumper," Sheppard stated.

"Yeah," Rodney said, "Obviously."

"Yeah, but I mean, this is a new jumper."

"Well... Yeah I guess it is." Rodney said. Now he remembered that empty parking space in the jumper bay they had seen when they first arrived in the city. Apparently it wasn't just extra after all.

"Does it have drones?"

"Yeah, all of them."

* * *

"Allies of the Lanteans?" Weir asked, sifting through the pages of Rodney's mission report.

"That's what the message said," Rodney explained.

"Any idea who it was?" Sheppard asked.

"She wouldn't explain it to me, and the message was equally vague."

"It's rather chilling to think how narrowly an Ori invasion was averted." Weir said.

"I suppose so," Rodney said halfheartedly.

"You don't agree?" Teyla asked.

"Well, that's the one thing that hasn't ceased to bother me. The Ori invasion was thwarted, job well done; but I couldn't stop the Ancients from being driven out, and I couldn't stop the wraith from becoming a threat."

"You wanted to do more." Weir guessed.

"Yeah," Rodney said, fidgeting with the pen attached to his mission folder.

"You don't now what could have happened if the Ori had taken over this galaxy." Sheppard added. "From what I've heard, they would be just as bad as the wraith, if not worse."

"Did you guys ever find the secret facility I was talking about? The one on the mainland."

"Yes and no," Weir said. We found the closet which housed the transporter. We found evidence that the transporter was there at one time, but it had since been removed."

"So there won't be any data left to study." Rodney said, taking his hands off the table.

"Is it possible there were others within the Lantean council who were working with the Ori agents?" Teyla suggested.

"Maybe," Rodney said. "I think it's more likely they were covering their asses."

"Well whatever the cause, all the data and evidence was cleaned out pretty quick." Weir said.

The room was silent for a moment, Rodney running out of things to add, and Weir apparently running out of questions to ask.

"All right," Weir said standing up, "Thank you Rodney, meeting dismissed."

"Doctor Weir," Beckett said just as the shuttered doors of the conference room opened. He walked in, his demeanor showing his excitement.

"What is it Carson." Dr. Weir addressed.

"I've been going over some of the data that Rodney brought back with him, and I think I figured out what the purpose of the machine Rodney described was."

He looked to all in the room, possibly expecting one of them to say 'what.' "It's for manipulating DNA."

"Thank you," Rodney said, standing up. "I think we already knew that."

"Aye, but I bet you didn't know it was programmed to alter the natural functioning of a wraith's immune system."

"What's the significance of that?" Weir asked.

"Well, it's still early, and there's so much more information to sort through, but from what I've read so far, among other things, it couples the functioning of the immune system with the feeding mechanism. But from what we've already studied about wraith, we already know that's how it functions naturally."

"So..." Sheppard said, trying to coax the point along. Rodney was already ahead of them, putting the pieces together.

"So why change their physiology to do something it already does?" Rodney asked.

"Exactly," Beckett said. "If that's how they functioned naturally, why make any change at all?"

"So you're saying that the wraith being manipulated by the machine were different from the wraith we know today." Weir said.

"It's all just conjecture," Beckett said. "But I think that's a pretty good bet."

"What was the purpose of this change?" Teyla asked.

Rodney already had a pretty good idea. "It was to make certain that they terrorized humans; making sure they couldn't survive without feeding. They were meant to be such a terror to the galaxy, that the people would just fall in line and beg the Ori to stop them." The entire conference room was silent as they absorbed what he just said. "That was after they drove out the Ancients," he added to clarify.

"These Ori sound pretty bad," Ronon said, making an unusual comment.

* * *

Rodney sat still for a minute, fidgeting with the pen. He waited until everyone had left, then stood up, walking to the transporter. He stepped outside on the north pier, and walked for a few minutes straight to the point.

The bright sun shone directly down and the salt air of the sea blowing past him He turned slowly around in a circle, taking everything in about the city, every visual detail. It put new perspective on everything. His view of the city had changed. It put new perspective on it to know just how long it had been around, and how little it had changed. As far as he knew, almost no time at all had passed.

He thought of Gero, knowing that he surely would be gone by this time. And yet, he couldn't get the idea out of his mind, that somewhere, at sometime, he was right where he had seen him last; walking out into his field, or stoking the fire in his kitchen. He felt that he could just as easily travel back to that planet in the jumper and find him there, even though his rational mind knew that everything he'd seen was surely different now. He thought of Gero's son, realizing that he hadn't learned his name. Perhaps he would still be alive after all this time, maybe.

He wasn't even sure how his view of the wraith had changed. Was it their fault that they became what they were? He didn't know, Syntyche would probably be able to judge that better than him. The Ancients, the Lanteans. How could they have let that happen right under their noses, right in their own city! It was unimaginable. It seemed that toward the end, they had become almost apathetic, completely uninterested in paying attention to the state of affairs in the galaxy, even of their own government. Lack of vigilance perhaps, had made it so easy for the Ori to infiltrate.

Svard had seen what was happening. In the end he warned them of what was going on, but it cost him his life, and the warning was almost too late. There were few people Rodney would consider a friend, which is why Svard's death was affecting him like it was; he had been a friend.

Seventy years had passed for Syntyche. He could only imagine what had transpired for her during that time. He still didn't know very much about her history, her people. How she came to be in Ori captivity. He figured it was a story anyone would be hesitant to relate. He wasn't even sure he wanted to hear it.

He wasn't sure how and if all he had learned had changed things, but he felt his that in some small but important way, his thoughts and decisions toward the wraith, the Lanteans, and this city would be forever different from the past.


End file.
